While working as organizer for this show, I had the opportunity to contemplate an aspect of calamity which, by virtue of being able bodied, I had previously being relatively unaware of: imprisonment, the confinement within the boundaries of the disaster – be it of as a species or as an individual, as a social condition or as a geographic location.

Thus inspired, I borrowed a line of a poem in Spanish by Alberto Machado: “Caminante, no hay Camino. Se hace camino al andar”. Literally written on the wall, these words attempt to illustrate how, in a state of constraint, the elements of mobility inside the box are reduced to a silent scream.