In 2000 we came to live in England; well, not really England, it was rather a dismal little cottage on a hill somewhere in South Kent. Then my fifty second birthday came in May 2001 and as such I did my yearly self-portrait and this is what came out of the negative: a man trapped in a room inside a country totally alien to his soul, surrounded by soggy grass and cold rain. Then it all clicked in; all I had to do to discover my real self in the portrait was to trace geometric patterns in search of a solution to my sadness and alienation.
Here it is, in all its functional dysfunction: I am the cat and I am being held by an alien being who looks remarkably suspicious like my former incarnation as Lalo Borja.
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