I carried the box to several places, opened it on streets, parks, in front of houses, apartments for play. Each time, with each play, the box torn, worn out, become dirty with the footprints of the players. The footprints of players overlap and converge into each other. The box becomes a space where different places, people, times merge into each other. A space where past and present, public and private, real and non-real, meets.
Each step was outlined with rectangular. After tree steps that the player needs to hop on one foot fourth and fifth steps come on which the player rests on two feet, give its weight on the feet equally. Then comes a single hop, followed by seventh and eighth steps, again on two feet. The extension of my box lacks the last two steps of the hopscotch diagram; these two steps were drawn by chalk on the sites. In that way, the play left temporary marks that show its being there once upon a time.