The intercom speaks, and I learn some lessons first: humour, it turns out, is the old word for human (did you know!?), so that when we say the « human race » we might as well say « humour race » or « humour resources », for that matter, or acknowledge, as we must, that « we are all just humour after all ». Equipped with this fundamental but largely forgotten knowledge, I learn a few more things: the power of light, the inexhaustible power of creation, and the ability of clay to teach us about the ability of time. The fascination with watching is extreme, even gripping: as clay hardens, worlds are born and smashed and born again. And yet, perhaps the miniskirt, in all its gypsum force, teaches us the bluntest lesson about the laughable constructions we create amongst one another. Height, flexibility, core strength –– time, impossibility, darkness!