First, you lay out the ground. It has a gradient, like the sky at dusk, changing its colour from warm to cold. From light to dark.
Second, you place your tiles. You need to leave some space between them. Align them in different vertical rows. Some have the same width as your background. Others are almost square. All of them have a white, smooth surface.
Third, add the banner at the bottom and top. They are dark and heavy and need to be organized. The bottom banner covers the whole surface in width and height, once you reach it. Different tones of darkness separating two areas from each other. The top banner is way thinner, but still has the same different coloured areas.
Fourth, you drop some arrows to navigate your tiles. They are made of a single line, with a kink in its center. Some are inside an outlined box, to make them visible on the identically coloured ground. Place one arrow at each end of every row, pointing in contrary directions.
Fifth, now add some details. Feel free to use what ever you like from the palette. Text, numbers, items, symbols in different sizes and colours. Your imagination has no limits. You stand on the ground. With your bare feet you can feel the cold tiles, their space in between, their carves.
May be an ancient kitchen floor.


The facade is painted white and consists almost entirely of windows. They look different to each person. I may be smaller than you and therefore look at the house from a different angle. The windows come with the house. They are there as soon as I see it. There is a doorbell sign to the left of the house. I can fold it in and out. Where do I want to go? Here I can choose what my house and the windows should look like. I can also save things, they are listed here as well.
The entrance is a long, narrow rectangle with a grey border. It stands above the windows. In its right corner lays a magnifying glass. A search. I type in a letter. Immediately, names that contain the letter are suggested to me. I feel flooded with images that I don't even want or need to see.
There is also a second, smaller door. Here I don't have to use the keyboard, but can simply say a word or title. Then it searches to see if there is a matching window. For this I click on the microphone, which is to the right of the big door.
I can go closer to all windows that I see from the outside. A simple click. It gets bigger, the others slide to the right side. There is now only one column left. The house becomes an endless tower. The scene in the window is moving. Above it, both doors can still be seen, they remain there. That calms me down. I know how to get somewhere else.
Under the big window are a few signs. I can indicate if I like what is shown in the window or not. I can share it with other people or save it. Some people have something to say about the video. They tag it onto the house wall, the house cleaning rarely comes. When the movement behind the windows stops, it becomes dark. But there is already a new small window on it. I have to decide quickly if I want to look into it as well. If I think too long, it starts within 5 seconds by itself. I am inside the endless house. And without me doing anything, small and large windows open and close. I don't even notice how the light slowly turns on in them, because it has become dark outside.
May be a bottomless house constantly shifting realities.


A gate, everything stands still. There is not much to see, mainly white, empty space. The appearance of a blank page. There are no instructions for how to get in, but I've seen it so many times that I interact without thinking about it. No explanation is needed: this is the key element. From here, most people in the world reach the internet. The seemingly randomly assembled bright colours radiate a friendly naivety that seems inviting.
We are still in front of the gate. Something changes. Within fractions of a second, I'm standing in front of an eleven-digit number of doors. However, only a handful of them are displayed to me at once, sorted by descending relevance. Underneath is what I described as doors, but looks like a listing. Around it, there is still a lot of white space. The bright medium blue of the font signals to me that there is more behind it, which I can be directed to by visiting it.
If I move to the bottom, someone suggests new or similar content that might interest me. I'm supposed to stay here, in this neutral-looking hallway whose end I can't see and whose number of doors makes it almost impossible for me to choose one.
May be an entry to the nervous system of the World Wide Web.


It looks bright and clean here, as if everything is regularly checked, cleaned and disinfected. There is movement only under the surface. Currents created by other waters, soil and air. Waves do not beat these. In the background, a soft murmur of voices. I can identify only a few of the languages spoken, others I have never heard. A brook. I can't see where it rises or flows. Streams never flow only straight ahead. They combine several spring rivulets, which sometimes become a river, sometimes percolate or separate into several streams. Some have more water than others. The riverbed also changes constantly due to weather conditions and in turn affects the flow rate of the water. One stream flows into another. A few meters next to it, the same thing happens, it becomes more and more water. Already, the river can no longer be crossed without a bridge. At some point it flows into a sea. The surface looks clean and smooth as glass. In the evening it is windless, no movement or ripple. But underneath the currents are strong, because everything is always changing.
There is no beginning and no end, no bottom or top, because everything is always connected. Sometimes a small wave can be seen from the outside.
May be an infinite stream of knowledge.


Aggressively surrounded, yet still relieved to be here. Soothe me in this place where time and space are non-linear things and everything else that was with me before melts down in its own insignificance. Do not get stuck in looking instead of watching. Scrolling through row after row, screaming colours on the dark ground. Complete silence and unnatural speed uncovering the silliness of performance frame after frame.
Attention is in short supply, but it has been constructed to keep me here and by systematically avoiding decision making, I stay.
Maybe a modern relaxation.


A Lego brick is rectangular and wider than it is high. On the top, it has four knobs in two rows opposite each other, which are slightly higher than the brick itself. The inside of the brick is hollow, which can be seen if you turn it over. In the middle of the underside, there are three circles of the same size in a row below each other. These are not raised like the knobs, but form holes into the interior.
Lego bricks come in countless colors and shapes, but the basic principle of small, round knobs that connect the rectangles always remains the same. To prevent the bricks from slipping, you can put a larger plate underneath, which consists only of knobs. This is often light grey. The bricks now connect firmly and many of them can be stacked on top of each other and arranged next to each other. Disassembling is difficult, only with effort the stones can be detached from their foundation.
May be a grid system, not fitting for everyone.


You can only enter this elevator alone. It is too small for several people. The walls are transparent, so you can look outside. Some elevators are faster than others. This elevator is very intelligent.
Without pressing a button, the doors close. The movement can be detected only by looking outside. Images and sounds pass by. Voices and rhythms mingle. Outside, it is bright. Like a day when there are clouds in the sky, but the light still seems to be dazzling.
The speed of the elevator can be determined by the person riding it. The images cannot. Not directly. The intelligence of the elevator is often underestimated at first. People seem to do things randomly, in quick, choppy movements. To understand why, the elevator must be entered regularly.
Other than watching and controlling the speed, this space is free of responsibility. Factors that normally govern everyday life do not exist here. There is no time or space. The constant outward gaze, which does not deviate from the image, blurs all boundaries. No inside and outside, me and you, present and past. There is only one trajectory on which to move back and forth. It is pleasant.
May be a disembodied hideaway.