In Orlik’s cityscape Eye Hatching a road of buildings recedes and curves into the distance, the buildings stretching as far as the eye can see; at the end of the road there is a hint of green and rosy glow hinting on the horizon at something beyond. The shadowed buildings are like children’s toy building blocks made up of recognisable shapes of triangles, circles and rectangles. In the centre foreground, the drama occurs when an eyeball hatches out of the black depths of a broken, cracked egg. It rises on a blue neck-like ‘stalk’, rising from the interior of the shell; with it emerges three tattered flags, shredded as if they have been in battle; perhaps the egg is waving in surrender. The egg appears to have been wearing purple-red rimmed sun-glasses, which now rest askew on its face and it has two legs which like sticks are bent in the middle as if broken or as if the egg is in movement. Blood-albumen spills from the front of the cracked shell and seeps into the ground, forming a capillary-like network of like liquid which runs into the side of the street.