That was Lukáš.

I first met him in London. He was on a studio trip while studying his Masters at the Academy of Arts, Architecture and Design in Prague. He was energetic. He moved rapidly. He was one hell of a character.

Fast forward two months to Lukáš at his Prague flat, located beneath that of his parents.

The space is filled with painted canvas and many, many projects; there are collections of forks and trowels, shoes and Tarot cards, lighters and a mannequin who is neither male or female – hard to define, like its creator.

Lukáš’ energetic mind is capitulated onto every space within his apartment’s walls. There seems to be no end to the creativity filling his mind and spurring his fingers.

Not even his dog Arthur has been exempt from the creative crazy and he too, has contributed to the artwork adorning the apartment’s walls. Arthur’s pieces are chalk graphs, made from a rope with chalk tied to its end, which in a sense, document his play.

Lukáš’ parents aren’t overly impressed with his decorating style. His father, a photographer, creates on a different level. A piece of his, a photograph of a deer, hangs on a wall. It is calm, serene. Dare I say normal?

Lukáš  is studying his Masters in Glass. In the Czech Republic this doesn’t mean he is necessarily working with glass, more that he selected the course because he wanted to work with the course teacher. At Czech universities, students select their courses based on their teacher.

His most recent piece is an assembly of Marlboro cigarette packs, depicting the American flag. Coffee mug stains feature throughout. The project was exhibited at DOX Gallery. To finish the work in time, Lucas smoked at least two packs a day. Butts have been kept for a second piece. His inspiration was simple: “I really like coffee and cigarettes; it was an impulse.”

Lukáš’ art knows no bounds. He has an army hat, adorned with keyboard keys, called Keyfabeth: “If you have Keyfabeth on your head you can catch whatever you never think about.”

Broken glass is arranged into different shapes in another room. The arrangement is destined for a wall in Prague. “Somewhere.”

After a few beers Lukáš, Arthur and I head to the park. He stops frequently, to chat, to look. We lose him at one point, as he disappears with Arthur. On his return, he shows me the tattoos he gave himself.

“The triangle and star – it is what it is. They are symbols of life and death and the universe. The six points on my wrist are my memory reminder.”

His answer is as complicated; as simple, as unique as Lukáš himself.

Lukáš' work, DOX gallery: pyramid of cigarette buttsLukáš' work, DOX gallery: american flag from cigarette packs