What do you think and feel when someone tells you that another person is "hard"? And when a person is "soft"? Words are loaded with meanings, stories and history. The same word can mean different things in different contexts and with different intentions. But what is left behind? What trace is left of other uses when the story we want to tell with that word is different?

Imagine a child, at the age of four, handling some kind of toy. Suddenly, one of the pieces of that toy separates from what was until then a whole. There is no possible arrangement, no "u-h-u" or "super three" to save the situation. What does the child say?

The obsession with the search for ultimate meaning, if everything one does is aligned with a predefined or desired purpose where will the space and time for experimentation reside? And for novelty? And the space for not knowing what the outcome will be?