The Stairway where my Brother Fractured a Finger
Oil, Canvas; 34 x 38 in
I am at a friend’s, it seemed the first time, looking out of the window. All of a sudden, something overwhelmed me…
I recognized this courtyard – the courtyard from my dreams (in my dreams this yard always exists either in a closet or inside of a cupboard). I looked back. In reality, somebody led me up to this building. It was not my world; it was not a world at all. When I came out onto the street later on, I again felt a somewhat similar sensation. Outlines appeared gradually, they became intolerably precise. And I understood everything. It was the state of a one been observed – not been watched but observed. There was no way to realize who it was or where it was from. When I was working on this painting, I incidentally learned that my older brother had fallen and fractured a finger at this exactly stairway.