MM: For me, drawing is more an investigation of thought than an investigation of observation. Before I have drawn them, the drawings are often as short and compact as thought. It is interesting to look at yourself from the outside as you are drawing and see how the thoughts you portray are partly visual and partly linguistic. The beautiful thing about a drawing is that you can seize it as an image in your mind, but the moment you want to comprehend the image, the drawing becomes spherical, and the mind can no longer illuminate it from all sides at the same time. Drawings are often composed only of a few small gestures on a sheet of paper. All that is left on the page is black powder, which can evoke a special language for the viewer, a language that can touch things that are important in life—all this in a relaxed and free manner. I would like to see my drawings as a spectator does. As a spectator, I think it is interesting to try to retrace the mental process of the person who made the drawing. A drawing is a transparent skin suspended between the artist and the spectator for comparison.

The series of drawings with vanishing points adhere to a consistent pattern. In an obsessive manner, each point at which a decision has taken place in a thought process—the point at which a line begins, bends, or ends, for instance—has been connected to a vanishing point with a thin, straight line. The likeness seems to shoot into it forcefully. This vanishing point functions simultaneously as a point of projection.