I was drawing several or dozen or so frames at one go, like sequences made of specific frames of film animation. Did not have to hurry since spread cardboards could lie and wait for the next step. They comprised sort of personal notebook for me. There “wrote down” any tiny action repeated every day ad nauseam which each time looked different in the drawing. All down-to-earth issues, those more embarrassing, private, fascinating and mundane. registered changes around me and the world in continuous, yet hardly observable, motion. There were some doors and windows opening and closing, as well as pieces of furniture, lamps and trash. Something was changing its place, something has spilt, somebody was waiting, somebody else left and cuddled. Everything was passing. Compositions resembled picture writing in which each letter says something. was looking for the gesture of my own hand in an attempt to express most directly emotions and thoughts concerning the instability of life and inevitability of certain phenomena. wanted to shape them and used them to struggle with everyday routine.