In the Maltese language one and the object one owns become one. My Room= Il-Kamra tieghi= kamarti.  I'd like to add in a personal anecdote; as a child, it had taken me a while to differentiate between the word 'kamra' (room) and 'camera'. For a long time I thought that the two came from each other, that a camera was in fact, a miniature room out of bounds for us giant-people to enter, but available for exploitation whenever we felt like capturing other rooms with it.
A nun used to occupy this room before I came along and I can count up to 10 kitschy Catholic-memorabilia hung on the walls. The infusion of my plants, books, cameras, lights, pictures, clothes, sins, dreams and nightmares, like entropy (?) have deemed the latter invisible and so I remain okay with having them there. 
They, and my own items together kind of contribute to the current surreal chapter in my life.

Ever-exponentially growing collection of books and films and thought-keepers.

Amidst the stress and errands of last September I managed to spend an hour with my favourite performance artist, Ira Melkonyan in my favourite area which happens to be a 5 minute walk from my parents' paradisiac home. 
We walked down the white cliffs and went for the quick swim. Then as the sun set we started to make mud from the clay dust.  Earlier I had told Ira that I was interested in having a short impromptu play on reality with her, involving the idea of a tribe undergoing a ritual, and she told me of her desire to include the relevance of the 'new moon' as that day fell during nights of blank skies.
Below is a documentation of what went on via a video, photos and our spirtu pront conversation. 
The accompanying music is by Happy, and I urge you all to visit his fun palace.

What was conversed during the encounter.

I- And now is a time when the sun goes down and the moon will reappear. It's the moment when I can enter the sea. It shows the way to the ships.

S- I am filming this sacred ceremony. Are you getting rid of excess mud?

I- I am weaving little balls of energy

------------------------------

S- What is that blue thing in your hands?

I- It's the colour of the moon.

S- Is it always?

I- Always. You ask strange questions you do not know anything.

[Puts little mud ball on S's foot]

S- Thank you

I- You're welcome

S- Are you ready for the sea?

[I puts blue rock besides crab nests]

I- There are many of them, they all want it.

S- Yes. What will you do?

[mud starts to seep in the sea from the rock]

Now they can take it.

S- We're starving. Will you help feed the fishermen of Marsaskala?

I- I didn't hear your question.

S- Everyone's hungry. Will you help?

I- I don't feed. I don't know what you're talking about.

S- With your magic, to the sea.

I- It's not about food. It's about finding the path. Your questions confuse me.

S- I'm sorry

I- You don't need to eat food.

S- But my tummy's rumbling!

I- That's because you haven't found your way. I think you should cover yourself in mud and go to meet the moon.

S- Okay. Bye Ira!! Did the rock tell you anything?

I- It doesn't speak it just makes magic.

S- Wow! It's blue!