Marks that fade, becoming blurred and decomposed as they flicker, like small crystallising spheres on the surfaces of bare skin. And in the hollow of each pore, marks are inscribed in the caves left behind by impact. They open up a territory where margins are erased in a continuous movement, in which each journey reveals new ways of being.

Like an organism in constant transit, like a map adaptable to change, the exhibition experiences an inevitable mutation; a nomadism installed in the genealogy of its body, in the fissures through which all its fluids are poured.

And the bodies become archives, and the archives become flesh. Fragile archives, spaces of memory carved by scars, wrinkles and tattoos. Each archive activates a vibratory field that resonates in space and embraces us. And it leads us to listen to voices that are portraits of desires, words that are the echoes of struggles and resistance, burns and screams. Memories are built collectively. They heal, they are cultivated. They should be given time to spread their flesh. And we begin an anarchic act of recycling, putting our hands on the residual matter. We make an incision, open the machinery to examine the blood of its screws, restoring the red and stitching the unstitched.

The skin is a critical surface of inscription, from which the pieces emerge with the voice and testimony of the bodies brought into being.