Every Monday, for almost 4 years, my father used to wake me up, at exactly 5 o'clock in the very morning. I would find on the table 2 or 3 fried eggs. I eat, smoke a quick cigarette and then, no matter how cold it is outside or how tired he is, he takes me to the railway station in his old car. I was travelling to another city, weekly, going to high school. What you see in the painting is exactly what I used to see in the very first moment of waking up, when I opened my eyes - my father.
12 years after, one Monday morning, I was alone, sleeping in my old bed, when my father woke me up, with the same smooth voice and the same knock in the door. For a few seconds, in my head it was like this "oh f..k, Monday again, the train, ticket queue, I hope I'll sleep in that train, my very hard luggage, today's classes... I'm not ready, ...the other railway station, bus number 25..." For those few seconds I truly forgot I was not in high school anymore, I was not even a student, I truly forgot I had a job, a wife and a kid
