Wrap me as if I were a sandwich. Dresses to wrap sandwiches. Swords, bags of stars, guns, cutlery, robots. Arriving at “Terra Ignota” in a silver contamination.
Clothing as a bag that takes our body, body backpack that carries our mind, backpack mind that takes this concept that takes the real.
A kind of picnic is proposed at the edge of the world or in the middle of a battlefield, a place where life is relocated to the place of pastime and where we contemplate the “mind dressed as a body” of a particular chess player.