Miracles are made up of many things, but above all, of the need for them to happen.

Ever since I started dancing, I have felt my body connected to an ancient, archaic, primitive, distant, original energy that is nevertheless excessively close, proximate and therefore traumatic. The present is everything that has not been lived, swallowed up from the beginning without ever being able to reach it. Accepting this certainty has weighed on me and nourished me in equal measure, an impulse I have tried to escape and to which I have finally surrendered. The Ciclo de los milagros (Cycle of miracles) brings together the three pieces (Toná, Trilla and Mariana) in which I surrender, in solitude, to that force, problematic and redemptive, wild and prehistoric, out of place and nuclear with all that is contemporary about it. A miraculous cycle, in which everything dead accompanies me, from my grandmother to the idea of nation, and everything alive rebels, from partying to work, or my memory as an infant, lover, woman. A cycle in which, without a doubt, I am closer to the future than I have ever been.