One feels inclined to say that the intention that man should be “happy” is not included in the plan of “Creation.”

SIGMUND FREUD, Civilization and Its Discontents

My son is one year old. Here is he, standing next to his sisters in the zoo, looking at the hippo:



If you can’t see where hippo is, so this is the close up:



When I had only one child I went to a shrink. Once we started to talk about artists and their lives. I mentioned how it is usually a bohemian lifestyle, alcohol, drugs and madness. She didn’t agree, saying it is a dangerous idea, and lifestyle can be anything you want it to become. As an example, she mentioned Rembrandt, who had a loving family, big house and a lot of clients. I went home and read Rembrandt’s biography. Which is finishes with: «…As often happens in the history of art, in spite of his brilliant talent, Rembrandt died in poverty and loneliness, forgotten, useless master.»

I am, of course, not Rembrandt, but wondering, if one can become a really great artist without paying the price of madness, drugs, alcohol, disappointment in the end.

My daughter Romy expounded yesterday her theological theory:
 — God, he is not only in the sky. He is inside us. For example, inside Itay there is a Very Little God. Inside daddy there is a Big God. Inside me? Inside me there is an Average God. And inside grandpa there is an Old God.

I remember, in her age Michelle explained me her theory:
 — God is a Moon. He is watching us from the sky, and these who don’t behave, he puts in car accidents.

Yesterday it was my last day at work. For almost 12 years (brutto) I came to this BN studio where I worked as a senior designer. I loved my job, and even now, after I quit, I still love it. But… I just want to do something else. In different tempo. Perhaps, will take the art path more seriously? I face the unknown and feel excited. And tonight I go on a short trip to Prague. To meet friends, to drink beer and to think, what to do now with my life.

this is how I imagined the Moon landscapes, when I was a child.

few more pix

Came back from Bruxelles where I’ve visited my friend Karin who lives there. Some photos:



I keep asking myself: why, why am I hate so much being back from abroad? I liked my life pretty much before I left. So why all I see for the few first hours is one big uncontrolled mess? The only comforting point is that I already know from the «previous chapters»: the time will pass by, and I’ll like everything back. Even though the mess will stay.