The plane looks like a flying fish. This winter of 2010, it landed back home, at apexart, in New York City. And there, I found myself again. I must admit that in every journey is composed a travel as a winning trip through time and space. Thus, the journey is conquest, but also a discovery. I do not think that it should be a Columbian discovery, but I believe that the journey always brings a kind of magical Columbian width of the space itself, the one that represents immaterial, personal, timeless, and rich, colourful land of the spirit and the soul.