Starting in the afternoon, discussions, one moves forward in erasing drawing made by a marker on the wall, sandpaper scratches the wall’s layers. It is all rubbed out, three faces…

I draw, I cut, I hang, I tie, stretch thread across few points..

I make marks, lines on the floor, marking space where plywood is to be placed, creating
False changes to the room. Drawing changes to paper cut out to wood cut outs, covering spaces of the room.

Outside I am looking to drill points, these points are of a journey to the top wall of the room…,
I keep on, keep on seeing underneath the stairs, grey folding chairs, I am not sure how I will…

The room has white light, no shadows casting on the wall… I could change the light…

Paper is light, lighter now, as I use the line only, discarding the inner space. I see, visualise a form, character walking on the threads… Like a puppet or maybe a floating line structure, I even thought of heavy wires…

I like the tiny table which made its way into the room, seemingly like a place to start climbing on to the wall, and fall off to the floor below…

Destruction, removal of what is of the room = everything which comes my way, rid of the fan…

So lose the sense of the house… This is not a house… The rooms are not rooms, it is just a wall, pasted to another wall, it has steps to climb. There is nothing more in the house…

Simplifying the HOUSE – I never enter the place because it is always open, never closes,
I go BEHIND a wall when I depart the vehicle which has brought me from my original destination.

When I am behind I am looking at what is on the other side.

I am looking for something…

I am looking…

I hear stories of being here.

I am thinking, looking and constructing my own structures which are about being here.