The Cubist comes from one of my nighttime wanderings — bars, artificial lights, and the casual faces you meet when you're traveling. These are the places where I like to disappear for a while, because they reveal the hidden personality of a city. The girl at the window comes from my personal photo archives: images I collect impulsively, which, over time, lose their original context and become pure material to work with. As always, I build the painting like a theater set: the characters and the gesture come first. Only afterward do I add light, perspective, and setting. I never begin with a sketch — I'm not interested in predicting the work; I prefer discovering it as it unfolds. The piece holds together everyday observation, visual memory, and a classical structure that echoes Géricault, Picasso, and Delacroix. The rest is improvisation. For me, painting is exactly that — a moment of freedom, both for the viewer and for the one who paints.