THE PURPOSE OF ART IS WASHING THE DUST OF DAILY LIFE OFF OUR SOULS. TODAY WAS CLEANSING TIME IN WATOU.
A BLAZING SUN DOES NOT CLEAN, IT TORCHES THE DROPS OF SWEAT ON YOUR SKIN. BEHIND SUNGLASSES THE COLOURS OF ART FADE. ON THE MARKET PLACE A LONELY CAT DESPERATELY LOOKS FOR SHADE. HER SHADOW BLACK AS HER FUR. NO WAY OF SEEING WHERE CAT BECOMES SHADOW.
THE OLD SINK RAN OUT OF WATER A LONG TIME AGO, THE MIRROR HOLDS IMAGES OF MANY DECADES, CAREFULLY SHOWING ONLY THE LAST REFLECTION. FOR A SECOND TIME PICASSO COMES TO MIND. WHO SEES THE HUMAN FACE CORRECTLY: THE PHOTOGRAPHER, THE MIRROR OR THE PAINTER. THE MIRROR KEPT SILENT.
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