Call me ! 2-2-8-1-0-9. Around seven when it dawns. You then feel so terribly left over. And pretty dazed. With his lonely whiskey. And the dull yellow rose. In the Swedish glass. And the evening chorus: What for? What for ?To be drawn by life in order to learn to draw life. That means finding a simple pair of moccasins in old buildings. Carrying you through the cold somewhere in a dark corner behind a cold stove and a cat purring for just one night.