Ostentatious, fearless, brave and courageous warriors, so fearful that even the very devil closed the gates of hell because he was afraid of them... These knights of steel or servants of the land were the warrior elites of the Renaissance, recognizable by their striking features, colorful and extravagant clothing (until then reserved for the clergy and nobility, as they were exempted from the rules of the state and the sanctuary laws) their actions were recorded in legendary battles such as Pavia, San Quintín, the siege of Vienna, or the sack of Rome.

In a period, at the end of the 15th century, in which feudalism was dying —with it the caste system that determined by birth the roles in life— and the art of war was changing, the peasants, craftsmen or servants had the possibility to become by their own merits pikemen, arquebusiers or swordsmen within the new mercenary armies of the emperor. Without a noble title, lineage and ancestry, the Lansquenets were able to become highly paid land soldiers thanks to their impeccable combat technique, their high risk in the battlefield that made their lives "so short and brutal" (Maximilian I).

Not everyone who wanders is lost... It could symbolize a compass or the Vegvísir of the giants of the North, but the truth is that it is the adaptation of Da Vinci's Vitruvian man to bring us closer to the Viking anatomy. Clichés aside, were they muscular, tall, blond and blue-eyed, tattooed, with a beard and a big hair that you shit on? Well, yes, with nuances. As for the Scandinavian touch, it must be said that there was also ethnic diversity due to the migrations and abductions around Europe, their strength was that of the multi-faceted farmers who so soon fought, fished or farmed. They were fearful because of their height, the axes, the looting and those "little details" that we have been told about. It must be said that they were no more terrifying and violent than other people or civilizations of the time.

There, at the end of the known land, there is nothing but darkness and fearsome demonic creatures… The Delphic oracle tells that the hero of Greek mythology Heracles (Hercules in Roman) to purify his crimes and compensate before the gods should perform 12 tasks requested by King Eurystheus himself in extremely remote places. His last job took him to the ends of the most distant lands never trod by man. There he fought and killed a 2-headed monster, and placed to signal that he had been at the end of the world two imposing columns (which separated the mountain range from the old and the new world), along with the inscription Non Terrae Plus Ultra, the last frontier of sailors, where not even the most daring sailor should dare to cross...

It is not a macabre dance, nor an satanic rite, but a mythological ritual of fertility, it is the dance of the snake, a prayer addressed to the spirits of thunder, lightning and clouds so that with their rain we will be filled with abundance, peace and prosperity. Its solar rotation is a song to life, whose infinite turn symbolizes eternity until the end of time. Cyclical movement that marked the pagan celebrations of the solstice and equinoxes.

Where men dwell, the divine also dwell ...

The gods, myths and cults die when a dark age takes over men and condemns them to walk desolate ... however, not everything is lost ... it beats tirelessly in your gallop until restoring in your wild heart the old gods - those with whom our ancestors lived in their natural world —... Loves nature, and cries like the wind and the lightning for the resurgence of the sacred breath until the beautiful pagan melodies that ran through those forgotten universes are resurrected…

It is not a macabre dance, nor an satanic rite, but a mythological ritual of fertility, it is the dance of the snake, a prayer addressed to the spirits of thunder, lightning and clouds so that with their rain we will be filled with abundance, peace and prosperity. Its solar rotation is a song to life, whose infinite turn symbolizes eternity until the end of time. Cyclical movement that marked the pagan celebrations of the solstice and equinoxes.

I am lying down, piled up with mine, it is summer, and it's time to finally enjoy the deserved rest. Beside me my companions with an immobile smile and a jaw set in permanent happiness. This time the women and children did not come, they stayed at home. The youngest who is with me is 50 bodies away, he has a sentence of 16. He came because he always wanted to travel the world and now, on his mobile phone from the waist up and down, he spends his days looking towards the sea through the small hole opened between the amasijos, the parapets and the stacked redoubts of those bastions turned into sandcastles, which together with contorted meat, brains and eyes out of their basins with the sun form a unique theme park. They say it was a bombardment. I do not remember. Now I just need to rest...

You were a humble peasant who barely knew how to read & write. In your native Domremí countryside you heard voices & embarked on an uncertain destiny to liberate France from the English. Together with your faithful soldiers, you raised your banner & launched yourself in suicidal acts until liberating the siege of Orleans & crowning your dolphin. That was your glorious rise that preceded your terrible end. They betrayed you & accused you of heresy. A scorching fire ended your life.

Were you perhaps God's chosen one or a madwoman driven by schizophrenia & hallucinations? Be that as it may, you were the maiden acclaimed by your people, the fervent heroine that you faced against all the powers of the earth until you almost won the Hundred Years War. Today Joan, your name is already a legend.

Adventurers, warriors, survivors, barbarians, nomads and plunderers, the epic Goths crossed half the world, living mythical episodes. Related with the Nordic universe, they worshiped the kingdom of Asgard, their eagles and crows that whispered to Odin the thought and memory of the mortals, guide them from the legendary corners of Scandinavia, crossing the Balkans towards the West. They saw the fall of the Roman Empire and the rise of the Muslim, and built a new powerful hispanic state where they coexisted with the three cultures.

I am lying down, piled up with mine, it is summer, and it's time to finally enjoy the deserved rest. Beside me my companions with an immobile smile and a jaw set in permanent happiness. This time the women and children did not come, they stayed at home. The youngest who is with me is 50 bodies away, he has a sentence of 16. He came because he always wanted to travel the world and now, on his mobile phone from the waist up and down, he spends his days looking towards the sea through the small hole opened between the amasijos, the parapets and the stacked redoubts of those bastions turned into sandcastles, which together with contorted meat, brains and eyes out of their basins with the sun form a unique theme park. They say it was a bombardment. I do not remember. Now I just need to rest...

You were a humble peasant who barely knew how to read & write. In your native Domremí countryside you heard voices & embarked on an uncertain destiny to liberate France from the English. Together with your faithful soldiers, you raised your banner & launched yourself in suicidal acts until liberating the siege of Orleans & crowning your dolphin. That was your glorious rise that preceded your terrible end. They betrayed you & accused you of heresy. A scorching fire ended your life.

Were you perhaps God's chosen one or a madwoman driven by schizophrenia & hallucinations? Be that as it may, you were the maiden acclaimed by your people, the fervent heroine that you faced against all the powers of the earth until you almost won the Hundred Years War. Today Joan, your name is already a legend.

Quién eres? De dónde vienes?

No importa, de muy lejos. Venía a conquistar tu tierra, pero ya no puedo…

Inténtalo si te atreves!!, ¿acaso crees que no domino el arte de la naginata?

No voy a luchar contigo… ¿Y eso? ¿el aroma a sakura ha nublado tu ardor guerrero?

Quizá, pero ahora sé que no he surcado con mis naves hasta los confines del universo solo para someteros

¿Someternos? Jamás os vi ni oí hablar de vosotros, pero tu odio jamás nos detendrá…

¿Es que no lo entiendes? No son tu sol, tu espada y tus crisantemos blancos por lo que descansa mi furia

Quédate entonces y verás florecer los cerezos…

This is our tribute to the fearsome and honorable lady samurai of Japan, Onna-Bugeisha.

Warriors like the courageous Empress Jingū who defied the social norms of her time, or the menacing and loyal Tomoe Gozen, who according to the 13th century poem the Song of Heike, was a reckless horsewoman to whom neither the bravest horse nor the most rugged land could intimidate, capable of, with her skillful handling of the sword and the arch, face a thousand fierce warriors; or the intrepid Nakato Takeko who instructed in the martial arts of the naginata, directed the famous independent female unit Joshitai and before being captured by her enemies, asked her sister to cut off her head, following the Seppuku ritual.

The image of the shirt is an adaptation of Tomoe Gozen portrayed by Kikuchi Yōsai.

"Only dead fish follow the stream of the river".

Swimming against the current is an odyssey in an open world where paradoxically there is more access to information but at the same time we are more controlled. Reflections of those dystopian universes — riddled with environmental disasters and cataclysms — from science fiction novels have come true. But there is still hope. There are spaces of freedom to ambush, where dissidents and freethinkers can react and rebel against the flashes of tyranny, censorship and dehumanization present in society. In some remote and lost place the Lineage of the free will always resist.

This is our tribute to the fearsome and honorable lady samurai of Japan, Onna-Bugeisha.

Warriors like the courageous Empress Jingū who defied the social norms of her time, or the menacing and loyal Tomoe Gozen, who according to the 13th century poem the Song of Heike, was a reckless horsewoman to whom neither the bravest horse nor the most rugged land could intimidate, capable of, with her skillful handling of the sword and the arch, face a thousand fierce warriors; or the intrepid Nakato Takeko who instructed in the martial arts of the naginata, directed the famous independent female unit Joshitai and before being captured by her enemies, asked her sister to cut off her head, following the Seppuku ritual.

The image of the shirt is an adaptation of Tomoe Gozen portrayed by Kikuchi Yōsai.

Listen to her desires, there is no calm from where to escape, the intensity of her pain is revealed which encloses the secret in a ritual of beats about to explode. The essence of light at the heart of her formula: Ode to freedom, an irreverent burst of daring that awakens consciences, melt into the encounter of civilizations, the tension finally gives way to lethal caresses that confine hatred and envelop it in the depths. Crucible of Cultures, catalyst of life. Redeeming Apocalypse. Listen inside, there is no longer anguish and pain. A new horizon enriches her soul.

This is our tribute to the fearsome and honorable lady samurai of Japan, Onna-Bugeisha.

Warriors like the courageous Empress Jingū who defied the social norms of her time, or the menacing and loyal Tomoe Gozen, who according to the 13th century poem the Song of Heike, was a reckless horsewoman to whom neither the bravest horse nor the most rugged land could intimidate, capable of, with her skillful handling of the sword and the arch, face a thousand fierce warriors; or the intrepid Nakato Takeko who instructed in the martial arts of the naginata, directed the famous independent female unit Joshitai and before being captured by her enemies, asked her sister to cut off her head, following the Seppuku ritual.

The image of the shirt is an adaptation of Tomoe Gozen portrayed by Kikuchi Yōsai.

Let yourself be seduced by the magical world of Greek mythology. An odyssey awaits you in the land of ancient Greek gods and goddesses, heroines and heroes, secret sites, Homeric poems ...  if you see on the horizon a huge wooden horse, do not be fooled, it is the Achaeans, who they hide inside to enter through the majestic gate of the fortified city of Troy, it could be the end ....the Greeks do not forget that Paris fell madly in love with Helena of Sparta and kidnapped her. There it all began, the war against the Trojans, the heroes of Antiquity, Achilles, Áyax, Héctor ... the epics stories of the Iliad...