When I was a child I envisioned becoming an artist to find my own language. I walked on many (by-) paths and ended up being a visiting student in St. Petersburg. In the class of monumental painting everybody was expected to depict form and colour of the mise-en-scène with the utmost care. There was always an arranged still life with a person – for example a dying warrior. I painted everything in complementary colours to meet my need to try something new on one hand and at the same time not to disregard the study of form and colour. Nevertheless, the five elderly gentlemen who went from easel to easel for corrections did not accept that. I should go or conform to the rules. I went, to be a photographer from then on.