Todo aquello que ya estaba

A cow named La Torcida lies down to ruminate on the arid land of northern Patagonia. The armadillo, an armored animal, disappears into its burrows if it senses danger. Hilario, a former hermit neighbor and protector of dissidents, used to do the same. The almost-artist has returned to the family home for a multi-species research project and now documents her daily life in field notes, whether she's with the cows or wandering among the tamarisk trees. One afternoon, her father explains how horses die. Her mother measures joy by the rain. And the drought is about to break its own record. In Everything That Already Was, every entity—animal, vegetable, mineral, or inert—is part of the great assembly of the living, the chorus of modest beings to whom we owe a debt of gratitude. There, body and nature intertwine in a vibrant continuum, without beginning or end. Unfurling cosmo-writings, eroticisms of the wind, mammalian loves, and weeds, Lucrecia Masson Córdoba constructs a pluriverse against the modern and colonial fiction of the individual as an autonomous subject, detached from the web of relationships that constitutes them. There is nothing to discover. Everything was already there; one had to lie down and smell it. An unclassifiable rural queer fable. A tender and radical call to pay attention.