[…] From that moment on, I began seeing scribbles everywhere. I started gathering a new and varied series. I had material — of that I was sure — but I had never related it so clearly to my portraits. I wasn’t interested in auteur graffiti, the colourful stuff, nor slogans, nor signatures; I was only interested in the anonymous ones, made in a single black or white stroke, sordid or cheerful, but spontaneous, strange, and unique, from here or from over there. […]