A hero is not always a positive character, in a story. History is filled with examples of negative heroes in books, dramas and stories in general. Which are, then, our personal heroes?

Are they simply images we pick from social imaginary and which, from time to time, define our way of living? Or are they, instead, real figures? Real people?

And moreover, which is to be trusted? The image they cast on us or their real selves? Is that important, after all?

We can’t handle this truth as heroes (positive or negative) can’t be really reached. Can’t be really touched. Can’t be really trusted, after all.

Everyone of us is a hero, maybe. Maybe there’s a light inside every one of us. A fierce light, which casts a great shadow behind us. And maybe this shadow is very much needed to cover all our errors and faults.

Who is a hero? A woman? A man? A simple silhouette drawn on a small piece of paper? A comic book character? A robot?

Does this really matter? No.

Heroes don’t have a proper form. They’re some sort of ethereal concepts we took inspiration from. And in this room visitors experience just that. The inspiration they take from these heroes.

Being in this room is like being on the other side of the mirror, with heroes looking at those mirrors from the other side. Only in this way people can experience the feeling of being able to catch heroes’ essences and took something from them.

These heroes are mute. They can’t speak in this room. They are speaking their own truth on the other side of these mirrors but in here no one can hear them.

And in this case, that’s a bliss.