"Everything Was Field" is a strange and queer text, and therefore interesting, in which names are erased, skins deceive, and what is always strained and risked is existence itself. And there is a curious melancholic tone that contrasts with the virtual presence of its nonexistent author: on social media she is, yes, "the watering can, the mower, the climber, the ironer, the driver, the sunblocker, the peeler, the flamenco dancer, the shitter, the toaster, or the fucker." But, by not being, she has the whole spectrum of things open to her, like someone who is not and therefore transforms, like the Rosalía Saokiana, who is "all things," and in that non-being, nothing fixed flourishes, adapting to the question of what it would be like to "put a body in a box," and that sealed body were, for example, "the body of a mother." [...] And she gives us a fascinating exercise, which has everything to do with the curious intersection between drag and any character, between drag and folklore, between drag and every artist. At its core, it's not so much a book about drag as a text about what happens when we become a person who is no longer ourselves. From the prologue by Elizabeth Duval.