Imagining a place where my imaginary art hangs in frames, is observed by people I never knew, thinking and feeling themselves through the pictures.
It's a confrontation with paint on a fabric with wood structure, with your associations, with a law of nature or with the ego of another?
Who am I at all? Why expect to be worthy of people's time and attention? How am I so arrogant to believe they are going to project themselves on things I make?