The Gallery is a borderline place;
closed and open at the same time,combining inside/outside, it'sa place made for transit where to stop, a place made for stop where to transit.
The Gallery is a woman. Uncompleted, she avoids comprehension. The Gallery
keeps the memory of the
city out of language.
Here I find everything and
nothing. I'm sure I've been
here before; I loose
myself in the absolute vacuum
of this place, just as
once I found myself
in my mother's body.
