In the beginning there was nothing. No earth, no sky, no water, no plants, no stars. There were only… them!

Hardly do we know where we come from, stardust or clay, it remains a mystery in a chaotic world. Some think we fell from above, some declare we grew from below, half-angels and half-demons, half-trees and half-clouds. That may be the reason why humans keep on tearing one another apart, ripping feathers away, mingling and weeding out at the same time. That may be the reason why each human relentlessly looks for his other half he long lost somewhere in the midst of dreamy nights. But no one can achieve being themselves and uniting with the other at the same time, as all is but breaking apart and language is no remedy. Words alas are sand, and talk is wind. Fortunately, art can sometimes reunite.

They, they three we see and who appear to come from a big nameless void, three people looking uneasy with their own selves but who are moving under the magic of notes and overflow of rhythms made by an uncertain musician, what are they? Where do they come from? What do they do?

Sat on the big bench of life, they try to unite their destinies in the flesh and blood of fraternity. They are not able to, in their clumsiness. But even though they do not have words, they providentially have bodies and invent what dance is, using a few angel feathers as their light for the time of a show. Then they will go back, perhaps at peace, some alone and some together, to their chaos of stars. A chaos we all come from and we all have to go back to, when time and tide lead us there.