Do still lifes have to be rigid in formaldehyde, like the works of some masters of visual arts, or literary reflections on them? Dead doesn’t mean completely dead. For example, in the lower left corner of a certain painting, not shown here, the eye of a skilled observer will notice a fragment of bare legs protruding from behind Rembrandt’s semi-darkness. I guess they have company.

A photo of eggs and a war grenade could end up in the Guinness Book of Records. At a time when photos are recorded in fractions of a second, it took three years to create. Almost every painting here has a story to tell. For me, for example, working on a folder about dental prosthetics was artistically inspiring. During it, thoughts deeper than about malocclusion appeared. Maybe this humor is as heavy as German sausage or cracklings with cracklings. But these are images of everyday objects – sometimes consumable, sometimes the other way around, they absorb us.