Inhabiting a body worn down by trauma, instability and rupture. The lack of roots, contextual identity and common projects. Living in a choked sigh, behind closed curtains and abandonment. Looking for a collective experience, not a colony of termites, a mechanical rhythm, a forced coexistence of suspicious looks. Ending the politics of the ubiquitous enemy. Remembering that an outstretched hand is a small relic. That our shared pain can be a project of transcendence. Taking a step towards a wide space of primordial vitality, emphasizing your own power in a crucible of collective feedback. Moving from pilgrimage to the Great Work. An explosion of fury and love for life. ARCOS, BÓVEDAS, PÓRTICOS