April 26, 2012. Houses are staggered far and wide throughout the Hidalgo y Carrizo Property, along the bordering zones of Lake Texcoco, to the east of its basin, and west from the city that still keeps the name of this ancient body of water. Every house occupied its space freely, without a clear trace, structureless. The houses held together, in a fragile balance which would reveal each edifice as an underpinned array of materials and construction techniques: brass, cement, wood, brick, glass, and canvas, every possible combination arranged amidst a vast esplanade, partially grass-sown, dry like the air at this time of year. Some had been recently demolished, as clouds of dust above them revealed. Now uninhabited and neglected, these broken-down huts left mountains of rubble behind them: shattered wooden beams, bricks devoured by the salt in the air, fragmented plaster planks, shreds of cloth, rusty metallic fragments, foams of sorts, all dispersed yet close together, enough to be identified as remains of one sole assemblage. [...]