Matza | 3 | Vanishing point 1 April 201719 April 2017 I turn around a line encircling the world and bearing all the fantasy of liberty, always further. A line between sky and earth, between sky and sea, called horizon but when touching the mountains. A line of mysticism, dream and mistakes.A gathering of separation points, up, down, here, over there. Over there obviously more beautiful. Freedom is beyond this line, vertically and horizontally. Is it a junction point ?Is it a moment ? Is it characterized in the time, it is always after, or in the space, it is situated after.A group of vanishing points, we chase until we end behind ourselves. Looking at the horizon do I look at my back ? This elsewhere is a part of myself I don’t see.An island is twice enclosed, by the see and by the horizon,. Those who leave here are captives, those who left, outside of the cocoon.An island as a cocoon.Do you see your back ?