Oil on canvas
“…Black Mask. Queen of Blackness. It seemed as if it came out of some grim fairy tale… Even though the mouth was closed, one could sense that inside there were words that need to be expressed. Sounds which I didn’t want to hear… She was staring at me, drilling me with her eyes. Blackness. Blackness. Blackness… She was there waiting for me. I stretched out my arms. I took her.Black. Grim. Viscous. Crawls. Moves. I looked around the room, until the black had flooded my eyes and filled all around me. I became her.”
From the book King in the Thicket by Jana Komaritsa, story “Mask in the Bathroom”.