There are certain worlds, those that we all see, that are made out of streets, houses, trees, people, machines. They’re always right before our eyes. And, they’re apparently objective.
Then, there’s my world, made out of micro worlds, out of the mingling of shapes, lines and colors that tangle and generate animals, humanoid figures, creatures that are sometimes good, sometimes monstrous, all mixed in a vortex of liveliness and exasperation.
That’s my world, my micro worlds, the Littleworlds.