I. Light reflected on the screen

Slowly but sequentially, the thin glow embraces the surface. It shelters it from the cold, copies its shape, like a snake swallowing its victim. Fluid and imprecise, like a silver river, it copies the traces of a distant future. Like an oasis that stands in the empty space and the pleasant black color.

In doing so it brings with it a digital memory.

II. Matter runs in reverse

The memory of that gray stone covered the entire surface. We arrived there after the long journey that left them farther from home than they had ever been. This place discovered a different world, but where they could still feel the echo of what they knew. Low frequency radio signals. We felt like aliens, a dream of aliens who have left their planet never to return.

There is no up or down in space. There is no temporality, what was, is and repeats itself.

III. The fingers think they touch the floor

Scratching the plaster with the fingernails. Feeling that things are in the copy, the space under your fingers. The empty copy, which is still inhabited by the form. A haunting ghost. A spatial obstacle. A thin white or silver cloak, with nothing inside.

To capture the trace of a useless action. A chewing gum on the asphalt, the surfaces of time, the trace of the trace, the record of the record. To typify the world in small isolated accidents. Actions without consequence, accidents without substance. The gesture, again and again reveals itself, gives an account, and over the river, more water.