The audience enters the room; empty and without signs of art. I take my place among the people anonymously. I wait a few more seconds to accelerate the sense of loss and search for something to see or about to happen.
I conquer the center of the room by walking among people with my hands raised. I’m giving up, here, … I’m giving up! I give in to pressure, fatigue and rhythm. After all, I am of a certain age.
I remain with my hands raised in surrender as long as my strength permits, as long as I can support the weight of my arms.
As long as I keep my hands up, I surrender to art. I can’t take it anymore and I get a reason.
Exhausted the forces, the supplies, I lower my arms and go back among the people, I am like them: one who does not give up.
I never try the action before doing it. I want to be in the same condition as the public, a virgin at the verification.