Meet Silva, a poetic animal in excess, a savage-in-the making. In her suitcase she brings the feet and feathers of a butchered rooster. Around her wrist a bracelet hangs: spiky black plastic picked up on a North Sea beach, a polymere token transported via currents and drifts from fellow birds nesting…

I move through air and dust. Feeling each particle against my skin. Moving through water and earth. Sometimes uncontrolled and sometimes grounded.Stuck to the ground and up in the air.Always connected to the surface. The unseen and seen.Always in movements as energy. Never stopping.