In “The Ninth Space”, we see a world of darkness. Of nothingness as potential. The all-encroaching elemental darkness, out of which the infinite layers of the whole universe have grown. Out of which elemental darkness human consciousness has grown too, proceeding to instantly split the nothing into separate somethings and order them this way and that. The phenomenal world: a primal void covered with overlapping decors, both physical and mental, external and internal.

　　How to celebrate these decors better – the world of objects and the world of dreams? When to celebrate them separately, and when – in a mixed state – and in what percentage?

　　Both “The Ninth Space” and the partnering “The Secret Planet”, as well as other installments in the series – “Beach Play”, “It is as Real as I am” – illustrate the need for strong magic to navigate the void and the mélange of worlds that fill it up. Magic amulets, magical clothes, a magical walk, a magical view; a deep belief in dreams andusing them as supremely valid ways to interact with the world and oneself.

　　A doll floats in calm water. This is how astronauts are prepared for space – floatation tanks of salt water in which one senses nothing, not even one’s own weight. The ultimate detachment. But in a sense, this is also the human condition: floating in the water of eternity, separated by a bubble of perceptions from the external hyper-reality and from the butterflies that dream us.

　　All too frequently separated by this same bubble from the possibility of becoming living, breathing people, not mannequins resembling such.

　　What sense of detachment is present in this collection, is mainly a sort of detached participation, a preparation for participation. A fairy-tale interpretation of these important moments of preparing for transition, through which moments each individual must pass.

　　A child and his feathered playmate examine the mechanics of life in a bird cage. A boy and his dinosaur friend examine the same world from another angle. A girl examines a dream in a crystal ball. These children are working with both the external and the internal worlds.

　　A little girl watches the external world, which is in movement. Framed in a window; a rectangular doorway to the world, a shape all too familiar to the painter. Bird flocks fly, trains move, and again there is the invisible separation, but the girl is a living, breathing, warm, soft being, not a doll, and she will be capable of crossing over to the other side and back, when she is ready.

　　Armed with her magic, an enchantress walks through primal voids and sky worlds; armed with his magic, a boy flies under the moon in a make-belief bird, an aeronautic pioneer navigating the skies. Both are learning, exploring, discovering.

　　The world comes from nothing, and so do we, and learning to navigate the phenomenal world must surely be enhanced by dreams, because this magic is the glue which keeps the different shards together.

　　We examine the cogwheels and hard surfaces of those who came before and organized the outside world; then we look at ourselves in crystal balls filled with dreams. Our gazes run with the train and fly with the birds, and we choose who we are in every single moment.