The 70s… Rock ‘n’ roll catches fire in the California sun. The creative charge shoots out like a gun. Room 1015 is the theater of the delirious nonsense that electrified these years of decadence. A trashed hotel room, an outlet for opiated passion, inspired a do-good MANDARIN crashed by animal SANDALWOOD. Citrus explodes under the blows of burnt wood. SAFFRON sweat falls in droplets onto a bed of VIOLETS. IRIS powder, a mist sniffed on the skin, floats away from crumpled sheets scented of sin. PAPYRUS cracks in supple, wilted shreds on the walls, which fracture and fall. The space expands. Behind it all stands a battlefield, the ferocious call of caged wild cats.