A garden, a cabin, ceramics and woven baskets - in this domestic setting, an invitation between the inside and the outside is sent out by birds. The performers wear feathers with multiple shades. The Blackbird, the Jay, the Kingfisher and the Kestrel, are there in the hanging space, silent, and watching everything that is happening. They glean the objects that inhabit the place and move them around. They have not received any indication and wander freely. On the wall, there is a textile map hanging, we can see a riverbed. Now the birds are on the ground, sitting on the map, they share and eat what they have picked. Under the cabin some rest, in the river they feed, and in the middle of the room stands The Mother: a red earthenware tower covered with enamel sits in the middle of this scene of daily life. She, too, watches. Filled with cavities as if to honor all the hollow parts, the voids to be filled, the uteruses, the baskets that carry, the hollow of a hand.

My fifth-year diploma responded to a text by Ursula K. Le Guin named “The Carrier Bag Theory of Fiction”, which opens up desires for new fictions, more inclusive and less spectacular stories. I thank the Blackbird again for giving me my sight back.