The sun is shining brilliantly on my face in the morning as I try to fall asleep. I really don't want to get out of bed; I want to spend the entire day in bed, but the sun's rays are keeping me awake.

When I got up to properly close the window so I could go back to sleep, I discovered that my feet were sticking to the floor. I also touched the wall with my palm, and it was sticky. I stared, still trying to make sense of what was going on, and saw that my room had turned into a sticky house.

That's when I realized I had fallen asleep while doing a bubble gum experiment.

I now have to deal with the disaster that I made. Before I could think of the best course of action, I spent the entire morning crawling around the house.

Everything I touch sticks. Absolutely everything. At first, I thought it was a curse — one of those that no one sees, no one believes, but that messes with your daily life in silence. Any surface: sticky. Not even gold is exempt. haha

So, I turned it around and transformed my home into a kind of sensory aesthetic lab. The living room, for example, became my favorite experiment. I didn’t change the furniture because I like who they already are in my routine. I just gave them a makeover. Each piece gained a second skin: the computer desk now has a resin layer that reacts to my hand, as if it were breathing beneath my fingers. The bookshelf and the china cabinet are covered with a film that reflects the light in a nearly liquid way. As if everything was always newly touched, freshly alive.

Margot and Venus now wear little outfits made by me. Non-stick, of course.

My home office became an extension of my mind. Lights that turn on with the heat of my hands. A customized keyboard that understands my commands even when the keys refuse to let go of me.

And in the middle of all this, I started composing. I recorded the sounds of my touches: the tap of my hand on glass, the ploc of my fingers on resin, the chuap of getting off the sofa. I turned it all into music.

Anyone who enters my home can tell that everything seems to react to my presence. But they don’t know why. And I don’t explain it either. I just smile, run my hand across any surface, and let the stickiness do its part.

It was the early hours of the morning when I opened the store and put my foot on the floor I noticed that there was a sticky substance that invaded the whole area, as I walked on the sticky floor the cracking sound of the shoes was getting louder and louder, I felt more difficulty to take off the shoes to take the steps, it seemed that the soles were coming off.

I put my hands on my head in astonishment, as I found myself in the middle of the store surrounded by glue. It comes to my mind that this sticky substance is coming from the warehouse, as I had recently bought several glue sticks, indeed some of them must be broken.

With difficulty I get to the warehouse to check my theory, as a result two of the glue sticks were broken, that's why the floor was sticky.

Thank you! Thanks a lot