Everything Karl did in life, he did for real or didn’t do at all. Karl never played a lover; he always loved women who loved him. And he did not “practice painting” like other artists, even more gifted than him. Karl lived by painting. And in war, he was also himself and only himself - a master of war, and war, whether small or large, was always the same thing for him - a cruel confrontation in which you can either win or die. Having fought his first battle many years ago on the walls of a besieged city, he never stopped fighting. His soul was drawn to beauty, but Karl’s life became not painting, but war. It changed its appearance and names, but always remained itself - war, and the same can be said about him. Over the years, Karl managed to be both a soldier and a military leader. He changed enemies and overlords, moved from country to country, from language to language, but the essence remained unchanged, he was a man of war.