Paintings on the wall

Have been putting up paintings and photos on the walls this week. Also led to some strange thoughts.

Hanging them on the wall somehow made things look crowded again. The being trapped feeling coming back. How come that it is a difference having things in a box and actually seeing them on a wall? I have them both ways. Just in one occation they are displayed, in the other not.

Made me think of my appartment too. I had no visits in the appartment. Then, does it matter if I decorate it or not? If I am the only person to see it, does it exist? Do I exist if I have no connections with other people? This is like Schrödingers cat. If I and my appartment does not exist, why do I have to eat and why does my appartment gets dusty?
I seem to be in some kind of “no mans land” or “in between” somehow. Still have the habits of the old but getting annoyed about it. I realised that half of my belongings and doings was/is due to other people. For having guests. Being social. Expectations from relatives and collegues.