One room after the other
In each of us there are rooms. They are full of things. Sometimes the light is on, sometimes the twilight reigns. There maybe communicating rooms: we are in one room and there is another to walk through to. In one of these the wood burns in the fireplace, in another you can smell the scent of a summer storm entering through the window. Every now and then you can see an object, a bottle of wine, a compass to orient yourself in the infinite sea of fantasy, a vase containing flowers of a colour that tickles the heart, a book with yellowed pages, a cushion at rest with other cushions. A very large room is used as a kitchen. It has walls that seem to play chess. And behold, there is background music. It is the music of art that materialises in delicious morsels.