I’m in your apartment.

I am your guest now.

Today you’ve brought your apartment to mine.

Like some ‘dull flame of desire‘ we melt into each other.

There’s no need to talk.

You’ll always understand.


Every time when someone I truly care about is with me during the opening hours my works become unseparate part of the space and the location.

I do not even pay attention to them as they go.

All those sounds, images and even the visitors are particles of our conversations.

Day was slow, clouds were moving quickly and we were sitting there with our books open like we didn’t care.

That's the way it should be.

Easy going...

Like this quiet street in Prenzlauer Berg where you live, my dear.