As I was carefully observing their faces, I start seeing teachers, doctors, soccer players, poets, writers, what not. But that is only on the surface, once I start doing drawings, portraits of them, another world I was able to observe. Staring into person's eyes placed me into some difficult moments, worlds if I may say.

You see, we like to say that eyes are doors into human soul. But how many of us actually went through them. I could say I did it, and it wasn't an easy trip. These moments of wondering through staring at each other’s eyes, I felt as if I am allowed to see more than others see through only glances of each other as a normal part of an everyday interaction. It was as if I am seeing more than I should, but that more has nothing to do with the physicality of any and each of people I draw. After these sessions of drawing I felt exhausted, I believe themselves felt the same. Some would be falling asleep throughout drawing sessions, for regardless of stressful obsession of catching their correct physicality and geometry of facial expression, those moments of drawings were moments of relaxed contemplations, communication without a single world spoken. And then eyes, the door, the feeling, questioning what is he thinking of me while I am drawing him? These would be the first moments, a warming up I would go throughout a beginning phase of a drawing cycle. Then I got there, and no other explanation of that place of communication would be but to bring Kant's noumenon of each, him, person being drawn and myself, person doing drawings. It would be as if seeing a naked man, but not naked in his physicality but in his essentiality. And the place was somewhere in the space between him and me. The terminology of space in this case is useless to describe its location.