What led us to create this work was a reflection on a place to live in. The value inherent in a sense of belonging, not only to groups but to a territory. The contact of feet with lands that support and sustain bodies and ideas. Ultimately, a piece of land to die on and to feel a part of. But all this is set against a time when ephemeral conquest and the luxurious right to four walls and a roof are better.

More and more importance is placed on experience, on places to visit and sully with the blurred emptiness that cloaks us. Being professional tourists and heading off to conquer places that will end up lost, God knows where. Travellers who hide away their eyes, their feet and their backs before they set off. Loaded with anniversaries, noise, the taste of water, planispheres, music boxes and ideals to impose on any nook or cranny that has more light than one’s own existence. To strengthen the right to belong to everywhere at once, to the “I was there and I brought this back”… to dismantle as rite and nourishment, and only to return to the port form which we set out so we can pour out our hearts to no one in particular and to pack our suitcases again.

The more image technology improves, the more blurred our contours become. The fact is, if we don’t have a home, everything is fragmented, there’s no rope or harpoon to hold us up, just ganglia of living wood, without links, without words... it’s granite and dust. “Live in many places and die everywhere”, the new mantra of existence. “And at the end of the road, you’ll know me by my weariness and the way I bow my head, like an apple on the branch of a tree. My name won’t change but I’ll pass before your eyes with more resolution in that photo than in my cells”. This work could be a prayer danced to the place that corresponds to each one of us, to that place where we all have the right to lie down, dead or alive, and which no one should be allowed to dishonour.

* For the general public.