The infinite land, where the southern wind blows. There, at the edge of the world, since eons ago, the gusts traverse a land at once inhospitable and generous. An unending symphony arriving from the Pacific, crossing frozen valleys sculpted by glaciers of time past.
The land where wind is known in the Mapudungun language as Kürüf, and in Aonikenk, Kosten. That wind gives rise to stories and legends. Stories of nomadic giants and mysterious fires.
Wind of the southern sun fall, that creates clouds fraying and amorphous that transforms into enigmatic skies of fire, giving way to the most beautiful twilights in the world.
Land of the wind that gives life. That disperses seeds for hundreds of miles, giving birth to perennial shrubbery that has withstood millions of years, heirs of the extinct continent Gondwana.
Genesis wind. Particles currents of soil dragged from the steppes, which arrives to the ocean with iron and nutrients for the phytoplankton, creating oxygen and a magical metamorphosis that converts the inorganic to organic, mineral to vegetable.
Land of undecipherable gusts, of random storms. The same ones that have caused almost one thousand shipwrecks between the southern 40th parallel and Cape Horns, originating the most indomitable seas of the planet, on the gates of Antarctica.
Deep in this land called Patagonia, the warmth of the fibers of the guanaco and merino sheep offer refuge from these icy winds.
On that immensity, Ayma’s textiles rustle and flutter under the rocking of the southern gusts. They cover, protect, and envelop, postulating an ancient and indivisible trilogy in this part of the world: the wind, the textile, and the human being.