Witte Rook was located in a small Dutch building five minutes from the railway station. In the courtyard were two large trees, one of which was decorated by a luxuriant creeper, the other, though bigger, was bare in the winter. I met the contact person, Ms. E, and followed her inside after a warm hug. Witte Rook was an art agency in the eyes of Breda’s citizens, but its other identity—a base of hairy-legs organization—was relatively unknown. I was not sure how much the staff here knew about the existence of the hairy-legs and accepted it. Ms. E confirmed in our conversation that, most of the time, hairy–legs was still an unmentioned topic. In this situation, we decided to disguise my job to be an art activities officer, so, my identity naturally became an artist.