I'm more interested in the diversity of people in New York. I like to be lost. I like to feel like a foreigner. I like not to know everything. I'm trying not to burn the whole city. I try to consume it in slow motion.

You don't just find an empty museum and say, "I should do something here." I was looking for another kind of venue or exhibition format. I was trying to find a site where something could happen over a long period of time - something that could slowly transform itself and the place as it went. And I was also trying to stand out of the art-world system. Strangely enough, I stumbled on vacant museum.

You can go to a psychoanalyst one day and then go the next day and something else will come out. So, yes, there was some preparation. But still, when a person gets hypnotized, you don't really know what the outcome will be.

People who are under certain stress have aquariums. Aquariums are classically either a reproduction of nature or a decorative element, like the ones you can see in big hotels.

With the garden I planted for the Reina Sofia, each plant related to different celebrations along the calendar - Christmas with evergreen trees, Valentine's Day with roses, Halloween with pumpkins. All these symbols are so culturally loaded, but they are organic living entities - just like the fish in the tanks. They grow on their own. The symbolic ecosystem is growing without a narrative anymore. It's a physical and mental landscape.

I don't want to exhibit something to someone anymore. I want to do the reverse: I want to exhibit someone to something.

I put an octopus in aquarium, and it would eat the others. But if you put an octopus in with a school of tiny fish, he might not be able to catch them. That's an archetypal structure: a powerful individual versus the multitude, the crowd. You can relate to that.