(To obtain the maximum of meaning of this text, please filter through your Werner Herzog voice generator.  If you do not have one of these for some reason, please use the slightly inferior quality of your imagination.  Here, some classic Herzog to help you get started.)

What does a Lambchop think and feel, and most importantly, what does she eat?  Not much, apparently.  There is nothing in the cupboard but a jar of unopened mayonnaise.  I am not interested in the condiment, so I do not delay in the start of the quest, to spend some days as Lambchop. 

I travel to my studio at the ends of the earth in Brooklyn.  Am I in Williamsburg or in Bushwick?  It is  difficult to say, the auto parts shops are manned only by dogs.  I arrive at my studio at 8 o’clock and this is the time of my first disappointment.  The workspace is a square measuring 60 meters.  Am I a human being creating artworks, or a mouse getting measured for its first coffin?  Also, it is quite dusty.  This is no space for adventure.