I feel like being part of an underworld which becomes part of and supports the reality we live in. This is not a subjective reality but rather a shared one. The soil nourishing everyday life and normality, also professionally. The girl is laying under the tender rays of a squared sun. Maybe she is on vacation or perhaps this is her new workplace. Her fingers inside the fluid screen of a smartphone. Has she just sent a document? An email? A report? Something that moves inside an articulated and mobile structure in the underworld which appears to have a geometrical profile, such as a city, yet with impossible lines on the horizon that generate unlikely vanishing points. It’s a space made of lines, maybe streets and houses. Because building nests, from caves to skyscrapers, is part of our primeval builder nature. It is not by chance that we use a web. The network. The HOUSE of one of the most brilliant and refined creatives in nature. Web stands for cobweb. But you already know this. In the Underworld, that’s how I’ll call it, there’s a scratch. You can see it of the left side of the drawing. It’s a crooked and living mark. Strong and heavy. It represents interference, the Question which is the most challenging and slow thrust, the headway to navigation. The question we answer with a desire for discovery. That mark represents what we don’t know but that we will soon find out. Something that will happen once a major adventure begins, such as discovering the evolution of one of our creations. How will it transform in the hands of those who will experience it with us? We will have to find out together. But in the meantime let’s go inside.