Dressed in a black Nikab, I go out into the center of the gallery, I am the foreign, the strange, the unknown ... Nobody can see my face.
I throw big nails to the ground that make a thunderous noise, I choose some nails. I hide behind a white canvas. I draw tearing the 1,000 sheets of DIN A4 paper with a nail, for hours. A wall of white cloth separates me from the spectators. My hands are recorded by a surveillance camera and are projected into the next room.