A visual poem with elements of magic imagination, absurdity and grotesqueness.

Where do all our thoughts go when we close our eyes at night? When everything, unimaginable during our waking hours, comes to life and our bodies become nothing more than material. What happens when we walk out of the room in the morning, leaving all these dreams, fears and hidden desires alone?

Allegedly, we do not have just one single self, we have several. In everyday life, these selves purposely mediate and limit each other to cope in a socially acceptable manner with daily situations. What happens if one of these uncensored selves becomes free from the others, if it becomes autonomous? The landscape where all this unfolds is uncharted territory, terra incognita.

Ancient cartographers claimed that fantastic monsters and dragons lived in these unexplored areas of the world. In Hic Sunt Dracones, parts of the human body, objects and material unite to form unimaginable landscapes, beings and stories. However, it is not a journey into far-ung regions or fantastic utopias, but a journey into our own minds and the hidden corners of our souls.