I collect keys to the project space. I  look around. the empty project space seems somehow frightening.


I pack a bag with “art materials” big enough to carry by foot. I walk to Limbo project space.  I am hoping that walking will clear my head. Upon arrival, I turn the lights on. They are not very bright and they flicker. I turn some music on, hoping that it will make the space feel less empty. I wonder how I could “own” the space. The sooner I start filling the space, the less frightening it will feel. I unpack my bag andand eagerly start gluing marbles on the wall.

I hang a piece that I made recently, testing  if any suggested narrative unfolds.

The emptiness of the space still prevails.  I make a long list of materials to bring and leave.


DAY 3 –

Brining more materials in the space feels excitingly hopeful. I become conscious about the fact that the space is part of an artists’ studio complex. I suddenly feel exposed. I am working in a space accessible by the studio members at any time. I eagerly unpack my bag with materials and start making “something”, at least to look as if I am “making something” . I feel the sun temptingly shining in the yard. The project space is damp and cold yet that makes it attractive in a peculiar way.

DAY  4-

Today I am here for the evening, I wonder about my progress and how to measure it – can it only be measured in amount of work produced?


At the end of the day, ideas have spontaneously made their way on to the walls and floor of the space. It does feel like my idea of progress. I write  yet another long list of things to bring.