I am sitting and staring at my paintings. It is a bright afternoon, and the light in the livingroom is wonderful. At some point I notice that something is moving right in the middle of my field of vision. It is moving downwards, but it is so small I cannot focus on it. Thinking that it could be a spider dropping from the ceiling, I swipe through the air in front of me with my left hand. When I lose it, I assume it is actually a speck of dust gliding downwards over the moist surface of my eye. A short while later, I notice something crawling on my pants. It is a tiny spider, indeed. I must have brought it down with my hand. I feel for the thread by which it has dropped from the ceiling, and I lift it up for closer inspection. At first it drops down the thread, but then it freezes at its end. It makes itself as small as possible. It pretends not to be there at all. Smiling, I lower the spider to the floor. My bulging eyes will haunt it for days.