Writing, directing, scenography… the performing arts are the crucible where all melts in a determined span of time. Not a still, not a movement in time frozen on paper or in bronze but a wide array of impressions, emotions, a stream of events strung as pearls on a branch of time. The action is the work. The spectators’ congealed residue is the artwork that rolls around in his heart, mind and soul, his own private work that he takes home. The inner art.