A conceptually simple “control unit”, side impact control, pressure and speed sensors, a generator inflates an air bag. Air hisses away, an open bag brutally sewn to metal. Dirty air flows in and out of a stiff container unable to close, unable to open. Pieces that talk about air that won’t inflate, that circulates with no purpose sweeping off everything in its way, all the particles you breathe. Air that poisons because it is poisoned, that degrades its own shell, the body nobody has preserved.
Nuria Anguren 2016