"When dreams replay past events, when they break them up, transform them into images, and determine their meaning, I have the idea that the past, like the future, will forever remain a mystery. The fact that we have experienced something certainly does not mean that we have understood the significance of it. That is why I am no less anxious about the past than the future. What if some event or other, of which I thought I had definitive knowledge, revealed itself to have taken place in a way that I knew nothing about and for reasons other than those that I had imagined? What if it turned out that it hadn''t taken me to the place that I believed, that I hadn''t known in which direction I was going, that I was blind, that I was sleeping. Under these conditions, what was I going to do with my present?"

I would like to follow the path that leads to our intimate territory. Create a story with the body, using what our dreams reveal to us. Carry the same process into this zone of trouble and transformation. Question how our memory is constructed. Draw lines that waver between poetry and documents. I would also like to confront these territories of the individual with world economy, or, as Fernand Braudel has done, with the process of the creation of inequality in the world. What critical resources can a dancer's body provide about the society that surrounds him?
Can it express the new and ancient forms of exploitation, oppression and humiliation? Search for the social relevance of this dancing/resisting activity. The world is composed of asymmetric and asynchronous times and spaces; our wish is to create a form that can interact with it.