I'm with my father. My mother is not here. We talk about my studies but I say that music is my thing. I run with my brother in a thick coat and cap and sink into the sand up to my knees. I'm not allowed to go any further at a gate. Maybe G. will save me.

I see a photo for an advert with dolls. It's somehow unpleasant. I want to send a photo with dolls, show it to others. I go into my studio. The heating has been on all night. I can't find the photo on my mobile phone. I'm in New York with V. I say I could live here. She says I like it here more than she does. A group of four people picks us up. We introduce ourselves. Three of them speak Flemish.