An exhibition without exposure. Mireya Masó.

An exhibition is organized and in parallel a book is made. Not here. You make an exhibition in (the inside) of a book. By exhibition I do not mean to order things in a reasoned way. She or they don't even pretend to. They know that in that way they would amputate the most eloquent.

The architecture to metroveinte cm. (as a premise) does not want the limelight, she prefers to shelter in her belly-corners. She shows her body, but only a little. That's why they are there, delicately moving among the objects-life that inhabit the house, adding glances with the shutter and gestating texts, some of them borrowed, so that nothing is so simple.

It is about two men and a woman showing intimacy.

We open the cover of the book-door.

Now the house can be filled with hundreds or thousands of voyeurs and some little thieves of ideas. The good ones, those who come to enjoy in silence, while they listen to how those infinite ideas are pumped (triggered by the (poetic) images and texts.

To be without being in an exhibition, (like ghosts) without crowds, courtesies, or distractions. Magically invited all to dwell with Mr. A, sharing space without disturbing him.

Once again Alice in Wonderland, where the end is not what counts but the journey of experience and the ability to disrupt everyday life.