After my son was born a year ago, I've been limiting my traveling and I thought that I would enjoy Paris a lot but I've been homesick missing my kids.

I think I should have had more work to do (or arrive just one day before the opening). Installing the show was finally simple and everything looks good, though I feel that I should have sweat more. I'm from a protestant culture, where the results are not enough but the working itself is highly valued. Now I have had too much free time and I don´t like really walking around, sipping coffees (€4 in Paris!) at the terraces and visiting museums.

Now I'm at the airport and going back to Spain, where the youth has started a revolution from the Puerta del Sol but I'm not going to live in their tents at Puerta del Sol and demand justice and democracy - I'm going home to play with my kids. I'm anxious to know if my son has learned to walk and what poems my daughter has written while I've been away.

I arrived yesterday in Paris. Emilie picked me up at the Orly airport and we drove to the gallery. Before she had a little white cube in Belleville where I did a show three years ago but now the gallery is in a strange apartment like space - a fireplace - included in Marais where all the bluechip galleries are located. I'll take that as a challenge. Marais is great for business but I prefer the Paris of Belleville with it's big Chinese community and the Arab street market and no tourists.

Then I went to have dinner with Krista - I stay in her place near Bastille. And then she found two Finnish architectural students at the street and invited them to drink with us all night. 3.30 a.m. Krista prepared us spaghetti with tomato sauce so I didn't really need any solid breakfast this morning when I started installing the exhibition 9.30 a.m. Ironically, first we scootered (a fantastic way to see the city) to Belleville because I needed Chinese cardboard boxes for a construction where I'm going to project the slide show My Favorite Escort Girls in the People's Republic of China.

I'm packing my contemporary calligraphy hanging scrolls for Paris, where I'm going to be on Monday. I've been working hard all the spring at my rural studio and it's a strange feeling that now I have to go to a metropolis, show my stuff and network with people. My wife says that I have developed the agoraphobia - an anxiety disorder defined as a morbid fear of crowds and or uncontrolled social conditions. I think that's totally bullshit and that I'm going to have great fun with my gallerist Emilie and my friend Krista, who will be housing me in her place.

The exhibition My Favorite Banks and Escort Girls in the People's Republic of China, opens next Thursday at Galerie e.l Bannwarth, Paris.

I had to watch with my daughter a film called Gnomeo and Juliet, an unnecessary version of Shakespeare's play. The characters are garden gnomes, that reminded me of another film - Amélie kidnapping her father's gnome and  having an air-hostess friend send pictures of it posing with landmarks from all over the world.

The garden gnome is one of the most repulsive objects in the world but while watching the animate family film, I got an idea how to use it for my purposes. The pointy hats reminded me of dunce caps given (at least in popular culture)  to schoolkids to wear as a punishment. And even more, it resembled those hats used for public humiliation in the Great Proletarian Cultural Revolution in China. The victims of the Red Guards had their crimes written on the pointy hats and signs hanging from their necks.

Now I'm working with drawings and sculptures of red garden gnomes humiliated by the Great Capitalist Cultural Revolution. Traitors of the Free Market!

Dear Capitalism,

On the first page of our story, the future seemed so bright. Then this thing turned out so evil. I don’t know why I’m still surprised. Even angels have their wicked schemes and you take that to new extremes but you’ll always be my hero, even though you’ve lost your mind.

Just gonna stand there and watch me burn but that’s all right because I like the way it hurts. Just gonna stand there and hear me cry but that’s all right because I love the way you lie. Ohhh, I love the way you lie.

Now there’s gravel in our voices, glass is shattered from the fight. In this tug of war, you’ll always win, even when I’m right ‘cause you feed me fables from your hand with violent words and empty threats. And it’s sick that all these battles are what keeps me satisfied.