There's an interesting relation between the perceived shape and its real essence, between the system and its parts. There are 6 separated letters that together create 2 words, and behind these words there's a world made of people, artists, relationships and ideas. There're strange mechanisms that seem to work together, producing something in an unique big paint machine: some part give the necessary energy, some other know how to use it. From every point of view it's a working system made of single working parts. There's just a doubt: is the machine creating his own color, or it's using an existing one? Art is in the creator or in the creation?