The first lesson I remember learning, which might not be the first lesson I have actually learnt, is that humiliation exists. This is something I absorbed deeply as a child. My mother, in a way I suspect she was not fully conscious of, constantly pointed out to me this condition in the world. Last year, through working on a show that in the end did not take place, I realized that I had learnt this lesson in a profound and deeply felt fashion many years before. This was the first time that something that has always been clear was finally stated, whispered back as a secret thought.

It feels like I am shoveling hard crystallized fully formed pieces out of my memories. However these are not memories they are, and always will be transformations. These are pieces that are not figments of the imagination but rather actual things from a collective landscape that I am part of, belong to and continue to drink from.

To put it simply that collective landscape (deeply influenced if not completely shaped by that lesson learnt all these years ago) has been one source of what I call the work.