Recover our place implies to rediscover it.


Limbs walking, wandering, drifting in the sensation of wind swinging beneath
the branches of street-lining trees. Cobblestone sidewalk sand gardens
glittering the city with faces of flowers like random fields of stars.
Dare to be naďve… Abruptly turning around a corner, without the help 
of traditional perception, using the hands as a seal, the mind as filter and
the pride as shield, uncovers a vortex of free association, an overview of
phenomena that is extremely difficult to categorise, an eternal passage
across webs of minds to the velvet enraptured embrace, where each glimpse
of the masterpiece is a detail never noticed before. 
Feast in a whole new picture, made of layers upon layers of meanings.

When a tribal hunter set out traps to hunt wild animals, he was aware of his
will as a living force, even when he scored the surface of the earth with
a crude plough... he knew that his tribe's survival depended on his effort,
and his will responded to the challenge. 
Now, look around, see a modern city dweller sleepwalking down a crowded
thoroughfare, incapable to feel any sense of challenge or involvement. 

This “Posmo Age hunter” expends a tremendous amount of energy chasing cars,
clothing and substances he doesn't need, merely to be part of a fake and 
technologically mediated tribal environment. A sort of tribe, which he 
doesn’t even have a real link with, (For its impossible for him to connect 
with an obsolete Totem made of streets, shops and office buildings owned 
by people that he doesn’t even know). 

So, could it be possible that something somewhere in the last three or 
four thousand years, didn’t work out very well?... 

Our relationship with the tribal construction (city) is ready to ask for 
the divorce. Understanding this, only a few options remain: becoming true 
urban wanderers, shamans, and tribal leaders, reconnecting ourselves with 
the concrete; or getting the hell out of here. For those of us who cannot 
think in a rural life, we can still make a silent revolt, a journey to cross
in new ways the same labyrinthine streets we know robotically from having 
walked them hundreds of times.

The technique used doesn’t matter. Psicogeography, derivé, 
urban transmutation, or whatever you want. The idea is both complex 
and simple: to achieve the de-symbolization of our environment through 
the implementation of compulsive walks through this grey maze of concrete.
On these trips anything(or perhaps nothing at all) can happen, but 
the idea remains the same: to emotionally re-map the cities in which we dwell
re-educating our daily perception as the ultimate gesture of defiance against
our urban self.