Mexico is witness of how little i have grown.. opening a window.. Today my convulsive country is fighting to find its own place, and we: all the posible faces Aztec, Mayan, Spaniards and all that races that are excluded in the traveling brochures. Are; and I am with them; all the colours that land into my place the tropic and leisure.. beaches, and tequila. Here, I do arrive to this self digital expresion.. and I ask myself again... who would listen to the voices at this side of the border?