My Self and the Carpets of Las Vegas Casinos
<p>When I enter the ecosystem of a Las Vegas casino, the carpet beneath my feet is no minor detail. It’s not just the padded fabric people walk on; it’s one of the essential instruments in this sensory orchestra. Why am I so drawn to this carpet, especially in an environment overloaded with stimuli?</p>
<p><img alt="" src="https://miro.medium.com/v2/resize:fit:700/1*t96W9RJ7GNsiJk6FO5Esxg.jpeg" style="height:875px; width:700px" /></p>
<p>Painting by Enrique Zabala. Caesars Palace. Oil on linen. 2 x 2 m</p>
<h2>The Canvas of Subjectivity</h2>
<p>I believe the carpet in casinos triggers some kind of primary response in me, perhaps connected to my earliest memories, specific trauma, or some unconscious desire. Maybe the intricate textile design strikes a chord of complexity and ambiguity that resonates with my own psyche. Each step on the carpet can be interpreted as a symbolic act: an attempt to find order in chaos, or perhaps an embrace of the multiplicity and uncertainty that make up human experience.</p>
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