Óniero is the Greek word for dream, and our dreams hold our shadows in quiet - or loud as all hell - contemplation. The perfect afternoons we spent skipping down the olive groves, the dry dusty ground coming up and mixing with the dark heat behind us. We wouldn't talk for hours with our voices, only our hand and facial gestures - hey hey, this rock is the one. This is the rock of all rocks. Look look! Have you ever felt freer?
