The artist sits at a table over a blank sheet of white paper. He ponders, supported on his elbows; his head in his hands, as if in a vice. The camera, penetrating - it's the veins on his shaved head swelling in deep thought, it's the still empty paper - notices that the sheet shrinks in size until it's a barely visible shred, accidentally swept off the table by someone's breath...
Sławomir Sulej
