The theme is the sought-after pain, to feel some kind of pain that one WANTS to feel. In October 2020 my aunt/godmother passed away from a metastasis that worsened from covid and pneumonia. She died in the hospital alone, far from her entire family; We couldn’t even watch it. When we got to the cemetery there wasn’t even his plaque or anything to mark his place. So his absence is something that was very marked on me. That day she passed away, I found my first comfort looking at the moon, I like to think that she is the one I see in those moments. A few days after his death, I dedicated two songs to him that I uploaded to instagram. One of them is Never miss me by Antonio Ríos, an Argentine cumbia. This song is the one that she proposed to me several times as a joke so that I would dance a contemporary choreography. And I was interested in the idea, but I never carried it out. Hence, he used that same audio, sung and played by me, to dance. The setup is a table that acts as my limits, how far I can move, how far I can see. I tend to look up, where the moon typically is, where I hope to always find my aunt. While I’m dancing I feel that it’s hard for me to get into the subject, that I understand what I’m doing, but that I don’t finish feeling it in depth (I think it’s something that happens to any performer). So when I relax the movement and start to search with my eyes, I find myself on the left side of the table, as if she were sitting next to me. That’s where and when I feel her close and I start to cry. That’s why I also left the crying in the video, because I think that’s what makes the movement and it’s a clear and perhaps culminating way of feeling and showing pain.