I live between the rural and the urban and in this oscillation I can see the motionless, object bodies of the hoardings, which sell us a wordly eternity, inherit the religious conception in which the body is punished in order to achieve the heavenly immortality characteristic of the soul.

They say that the hope of eternity is one of the means to deal with the sense of unease produced by the consciousness of our death, to deal with the fear of dying, something that does not seem to exist in the urban society, but the truth is that it lies there, censored behind the present cult of the body. I am also afraid of death, but like my grandparents did, I take from the popular culture its strategy to fight the anxiety produced by the unknown, losing all respect for it when it turns into an everyday issue , living with it and, sometimes, making it look ludicrous