Works of winter semester 2025
Internship–Drawing–The Academy of Fine Arts in Prague
Head: MgA. Alice Nikitinová, doc. MgA. Matěj Smetana Ph.D.
oil, oil pastels, pencil, coloured pencils on canvas/sololite
different sizes
2024-2025
Photos: Radek dětinský, Filip Kartousek
In nature, I feel completely real. It’s a place I keep coming back to — a place where I know I belong. Out there, I can feel that everything is just as it should be. That everything makes sense. That I am just the right size. All I do is breathe in and breathe out, knowing I am alive — and that one day I will die. Nothing more, nothing less. And it’s incredibly comforting.
When I look at the city, I’m reminded of what it means to be human. A human being is, first and foremost, an animal — an animal like any other. A human being is nature: it emerges, it fades away. It doesn’t matter at all, and yet it’s an inseparable part of the whole. But humans have one unique trait: an overwhelming need to leave something behind.
Humans want to be seen. And so there isn’t a single piece of nature left untouched by them. When I see those giant buildings and the glowing, sprawling cities, I ask myself: Do we really need all of this? I look at all the walls we build — walls that define what’s yours, what’s mine, what’s allowed and what’s forbidden — and I realize that nature, which underlies it all, has absolutely no say in it. And even though they say nature cannot speak, I hear it screaming: "Humans are bastards! They steal me, they destroy me! I don’t belong to anyone!"
I think again about what it means to be human, and I know that I, too, am one of those bastards. And yet, I am also nature itself. And when I wonder why humans do all this, I realize — it’s actually kind of beautiful. Behind every wall, I see work. So much work. So much willpower. And behind every city, I see houses and love — people building homes to make families, starting businesses selling nonsense just to earn money, so they can care for those they love. Humans aren’t just destroyers — they are creators. Aren’t they?
And so I feel torn, looking at all the echoes of humankind reverberating through nature. And I wonder: Is home in the wild places where I love to return, or in the cities where I must return — to buy bread?
But one thing I know for sure: Behind all the cities, the walls, and the people — behind all the smog, the lights, the stench, and the rush — there stands a human being. A pure, innocent human being, simply searching for home.