All day long, he paints and sculpts, never leaving his flat, but on Friday he has Sunday. He goes out to a club to talk and drink with his colleagues. He knows that Władula will come by taxi to fetch him back. She will take Zdzisiu, ”feeble” by now, home to their studio in Drzymały Street. […]
Zdzichu is still talking – about the wisdom of nature. He has taken a piece of moon in his hand and is analysing it.
– I am a ”deformator”. And sometimes I am pure abstraction.
This is what Zdzichu says. So, I take his word for that.