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Michto Rex
More paintings...
Peintures sans vie.
Night's paintings.
Who am I?
A matter of life and death is dealing with questions without answers. Where is the reality?
Why, when the night is falling do I sacrifice myself on paintings and scream, grabbing my brushes?
I asked questions of my past, a past that no longer exists. I recognize nothing, lost in a sort of incomprehension. Where is the reality?
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