Peeking into the intolerable parsimony of everyday life, the future imagines itself tangibly deformed. It runs grotesquely backwards, destroying all poses, static and rotten. Relieving the guilt of an idealized being, who must act according to the requests of an anonymous crowd, now transformed into a silent and frightening mass. A classic metamorphosis: people embrace looking for warmth and end up dissolved in a puddle of pity. They waste the useless gift of beauty while losing time that is scarce for them and excessive for others.

Santiago Zynda