"While dreams die" I look around.Sometimes I stand devastated by love,by time,by History.While dreams die, scribbling can be a great comfort.On papers and walls, with gestures on the air, just by being there.Scribbles when you look at them are not scribbles any more.They can be mirrors precise and they can be meeting points,proofs of life, manifestations of imperceptible winds.

While European Legitimacy dies. While the Consuming Paradise dies. While hope dies in a cityscape abandoned, devoured, manipulated.
I look at this mess. I foresee more hope in this agonising state than in virtual realities of the recent past.

[The video is exposed as an installation. There is no begining or end. It plays over and over again. The downside of the projection touches the ground and the size shouldn't be exagerated-monumental.]