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on the road of my life which has been straight though sometimes it disappeared round the bend of history there were whirlings on the road of life where I walked flew limped losing along the way the truth which I sought in dark places sometimes on that road I met the children of my friends my own children I saw them learn to walk I heard them learn to speak in their eyes were questions mysterious children from the paintings of Wojtkiewicz hiding in corners listening to our conversations about poetry art music at times they squealed smiled were silent mysterious children from the paintings of Makowski flat little clowns with stuck-on red noses with snotty noses smiling we gradually lost our self-assurance (“what are you gawking at?”) we were so busy then all at once we saw that our children have children that they have failures and successes that they are turning gray they ask us “what are you gawking at?” but we are silent and hide in corners [2002] gray zone “What makes gray a neutral color?
