October 2025
I realized that this autumn is too heavy for me.
Once, I had hope that my shoulders could carry it all.
But which thing is the worst in our life?
Probably only death.
Everything else, we can deal with.
I recently returned to psychotherapy.
It was a difficult step.
And at one point, the therapist asked me to describe myself — just to describe myself.
And I couldn’t handle that task.
Only later did she tell me that I was describing myself not through “I am this, I am that,”
but, as I always said,
“I am not this, I am not that, I am not that.”
That is, in this world, I have never had a solid sense of self.
And it has always been hard for me to find myself.
Painting assumes that the creator is a person — a personality.
I don’t have that personality.
And that makes me very sad.
I doubt that I can truly be an artist.
