META-SPEECH

The images are a fortuitous recollection the I reach to capture in a sort of crouch. Series that make shreds at the time, that I grind and regrind, my life is a mill that like a tornado graze the same ground. I never locate myself, I'm under fugitive transitions. I pass from one image to another. I have no roots, always modifying, imminent change uprising remnants picked up draws, I edit, I meditate. I change the past, I transform it, I make it another lie to come. I reinvent my chaos, I form the perishable.

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The videos shown up here are projects that are to be seen. In each instant are to be seen. Each video is protected in a little hexagon of the hive of hives. Under the rocks immersed in a waterfall of a garden wild plants hanging, They are content in labyrinths of labyrinths. Connected or disconnected in a flexible topographic coordinate, movable geometry. Shining iridescent, like in a cloud constellation of fireflies that sparkle. It invents a ground scheme to walk through, to touch, a nook that nested time of times. The route that hangs a smoke, that floats, that fade away through the mist. It is a little-lost space. A space that wants to live from another uncertain opened space. The rival of a smoking pipe. This is a pipe. How much thirsty I had passed this times.