The initial reaction of the audience can be to be shocked. The dim yellow light illuminates only a part of the work. A work that as you look at it, gets torn and withered in the mind. Such small and fleeting curiosity brings you a desire to know what has been torn, and why, and how. It is the color that had been damaged. It had been torn and pinned on blackness without any specific method. It is a work out of desperation; a reaction to what has happened outside us, and now the excitement forces us to destroy whatever does not seem to be useful at this time and share this destruction. It better be destroyed, now that it is not useful.
The blackness and low light make the heart heavy and slow the pace. The curiosity has quickly found its answer, but is still alive and goes around to find something. Destruction, however, is repetitive and you shake its hands with sympathy. But if this destruction is not in a way that something new can be produced from it, what is the impact of a reaction that never goes beyond its own excitement and just slams itself against the wall. What do the colored pieces mean on the ground while being kicked? How the path shall be continued if there is no bright spot to enlighten the mind? Do we even want to make a path or are we happy to just stand here on the ruins and wave at each other in despair?
