The sound of the tree is born of a sustained fragility, of that thread-root whose warp is the poetics of an instant in which nests the song of life. The feathers can be the cradle of a hypnotic dream, Hip-no’s lat, close to the death of Tanatos, his twin brother; or they can be victorious wings, like those of Niké, the god-dess of Victory…
Aixa Portero