During the summer of 2004, I spent some time in the south of England in a small seaside town, where people go ?either to study or to die?, as our English teacher would say. Many people from London move here when they retire. They occupy little huts on the beach, breathe the sea air, sit around and look out onto the sea. The older, less mobile ones ride up and down the beach in electric wheelchairs or walk using walkers. Many of them are past ninety. In spite of this, they?re still active and look satisfied. The sea here ebbs nearly a half kilometer when the tide goes out. When you walk over the exposed sea bottom, deep in the sea, it seems as if you are neither on the shore nor on the sea. Both are so far away. You are somewhere in an in-between space, in an in-between time. Then I began to photograph the old people, I couldn?t resist. They were in such perfect harmony with the polished, omnipresent stones, with the sea and the wind. Serenity, peace, eternity. And also emptiness, but an emptiness which was more soothing than horrifying. When I returned to Prague, I missed the place and its atmosphere. I wanted to summon it once again, so I began painting based on the photos. At first, I thought I would paint two or three pictures.

Beach Booths
The Watchers
The Ride
Low Tide
Afternoon Sleepers
The Beaches
High Tide
The Readers
A Woman With A Dog
A Woman With White Hair