The figures of children and teenagers themselves (their silhouettes, bodies, and gestures) become the visual protagonists of the urban space. The aim is not to represent them, but to allow them to inscribe themselves into the landscape with their scale, their language, and their living presence. Their image occupies façades, walls, and partitions, intervening in the urban environment with their collective identity and symbolic power

And I tell you:

If I had the path to reach Prometeo

the shadow that gives nightmares to you little girls would basoiraria,

the night woven with the threads of fear

that at some time you have been argalas

-I don’t know when-,

gods of darkness,

shadow of the astonished mothers who stop if they know

Well, it’s time to take out the reapers of life

so that golden wheat is born,

corn that sparkles in the sun, burning vintage

Well, it’s time to empty the Moorish well,

to remove the mourning from the waters

It’s already time for the fight with the langran Leviathan

that fills the earth making it an anthill of terrors

It’s about time

And I ask poetry for meaning,

but poetry is like the beggar lying on the sidewalk:

a demand in desolation,

a hand reaching out into the cold afternoon

and that it remains, full of space, in the gray sunset

She is this white silence of the paper

with all the questions,

this clarity waiting,

this snowfall rests

that one wanted to sow creative words, verses lit like suns in season

to give birth, you don’t know which fields of meaning,

what rows of thoughts that sing of innocence

Thus, I thresh the letters like corn

in the joy of the riddles I found when I was born

And I shuffle the alphabets as one does with luck,

because the meaning is beyond the words

and the tired gesture of the scribes,

apart from my trade of rummaging

Ánxeles Penas