As a rule, people walk in the zoo, watch, observe, talk, listen, eat and drink, smell, admire, laugh. Sometimes you can pat or feed. Me and a few other people are drawing. Why are we doing this? Drawing an animal also adds several important aspects to the observation: the experience of the shape, texture, movement and color of the animal through the cooperation of the eye and the hand. Drawing from nature is a great way to get to know both the visible and the invisible. When I go home from the zoo and some of the drawings between the folders are successful, it feels as if I have taken some living things out of the crate. Here, as in several previous exhibitions, I have opened my “untouched world” folder (zoo animals cannot be touched, the only way to stroke them is to use a pen or brush on paper) to encourage others to go around the drawing pad and the world with pen and paper. get to know. The image doesn't have to be so similar, a vague image of emotion is enough to get a completely different experience than just looking at it. Maybe there could be so-called “public drawing blocks and pencils” with tear-off sheets everywhere in public cultural institutions so that people could store their immediate emotions and research? My hobby - drawing animals - is, on the one hand, constantly trying to see if I can catch this animal on paper this time, and, on the other hand, to take these beautiful creatures home with my dreams. Recently, however, in the light of ecological issues, I have begun to think of drawing animals as documentation. It is known from history that we know some animals only from the descriptions or drawings of former naturalists. My so-called documentation is not so much a scientific fixation of a species as an artistic portrait of a particular animal. The goal is not a completed static image, but a multidimensional specimen created in the eyes of each viewer through several sketches, with its own movement and character.