Under a roof of clouds, in the street a bucket collects the water that does not fall from the sky. The rain has disappeared and now we are left with only the memory where fiction and magic are immersed in a constant drip of theatrical deceptions.
Imaginary drops become constant rhythms of surprise, revealing a choreography of imagination and fantasy that leads this creativity to play with the absurd. A cup that appears, a flow of restless coins in pockets and spoons that keep popping up from the sleeves.
.jpg?locale=en)
.jpg?locale=en)