Those inside, those outside.
Which ones do you listen to, which ones do you follow?
During the last days while making a new wall sculpture, I let my heads talk. All of them. I invited in in my hotel as many as they wished.
The sculpture and the heads. Little instances of time, of proportion, of personality and presence. Little - and unimportant, forgettable, negligible and annoying - presences. Blurps. One, two, three. Unimportant. One hundred, one thousand. Repeat, repeat, bang bang bang. What if... we start listening to them.
Sometimes the small, like kryptonite power, has an information bomb, if only we dare to listen to their whisper. Or dare to let it speak. Or, like here, dare to bring it to other eyes, ears and hearts.