To run a space is a form of appreciation of other artists, it is an outcome of friendship and mutual understanding; it is an indication of trust between all involved. To run a space means to take responsibility. To run a space is not only self-organization – money may not be vital to put up a show – but it is for sure necessary to animate a space and keep it alive. The prize comes due to hard and merited work, but maybe a grant would be more befitting than a prize? Maybe an iron scaffold holding up a structure in advance is better suited than a gold star for accomplishments? To run a space is a full time job. A group of artists who share their enthusiasm, interests, time, and skills would impart a project with a larger circulation of assignments between the makers. I am convinced that the longevity and success of a space relies on a horizontally organized (net) work.For many decades Berlin has developed a lively, diverse, and independent way of producing culture and counteracting government decisions, based on, local, generous, and enthusiastic, but also worried, social communities that exchanged resources and ideas within a larger political debate. The city became a “natural” shelter and fertile environment for dissidents, artists, political refugees, and immigrants with any background also due to the need to overcome a traumatic past full of human generated atrocities that are still present in people memories and behaviour.Answering this question seems to be the most difficult and an endless process for me because I have to ruminate on the past decade or so in which I have gone through Berlin as a female artist, a Korean artist, the founder and chief of an Asian contemporary art platform, and a mother. Since the very beginning, I have been interested in seeking a kind of universal identity, spanning the various backgrounds of Berlin-based contemporary artists in order to examine the question of identity as it is often perceived from the outside: according to gender, nationality, and cultural milieu. So I have created a space where the dichotomous logics about those issues could be discussed, proceeding with many projects. Above all, I had dreamt of creating a self-supporting space, based on an independent profit model. Recognizing limitations in workforce, culture, and the market of the art scene, however, I have experienced some moments of great suffering. But what has enabled me to endure those moments of suffering was not money but people, so that I would answer sincerely that a project space no longer means a physical space for me. It is a non-physical space, comprising people like artists, users and agents, or sometimes a network.