As adjustments between images rather than within them, the film roams provissorialy along the hidden folds of things, through which it slips systematically. Phagocytized by its surroundings, the film vanishes within everything that seems to be alive around it. Staring at the horizon, yet landing on the surface, such metamorphoses do not necessarily concern the intimate nature of things, out of respect for that curios dualism which somehow distinguishes them unconditionally as vague and singular cosmologies.
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