Who hasn’t stepped back and wished that life were this way? A room that gleams with brilliance. Everything in good order, neatly labelled, mysterious packages that promise genius and creativity. All maintained to the highest standards waiting for the moment when the boxes are opened and every question gets answered.

It isn’t. Life is the missing sock, the appointment you forgot, the subway train with screaming brakes, minestrone soup. Life is a mess.

This is the best part. Whatever is inside those boxes, only happened because people engaged themselves with the mess, not just with the paint, clay or chemicals type of mess. They confronted the sock, or the subway trains or the minestrone inside their minds.

Wait for those boxes to be opened, this is potentially one incredibly messy room.