Presence Spells

In an arid, unforgiving landscape, a body moves — not to flee, nor to survive, but to search for meaning, a trace, a point of contact. Listening becomes its way of adapting: the wind guides and consoles, tools and soil turn into rituals of presence. There is no destination, only the willingness to be crossed through, until inside and outside merge. Then, to exist is no longer to resist, but to belong.