I peel the layers of the eyeball When I dare to take a step back from current trends, I see something that is both fundamental to art and to the perception of reality - sight.

 

 There is not really anything in the pictures. 

 

They seem… empty. 

 

Blurry ink remnants encircle a large white field. Thick glue residue on white background. Scribbles in vague, only just visible ink. Or yes, maybe there is something anyway. My eye so wants the lines on drawings to take shapes. Is it a tree I sense there, a shrub, is it shadows of geometric shapes, calligraphy in an unknown language?

 

 My eyes are so used to a careless patch of paint turning into a cheekbone or a touch of sun on the canvas. Ghostly prints are like getting new glasses from another dimension. These creatures from everyday life are suddenly hard to understand. 

 

And you can no longer trust everything you see.