The blue light from the television screen is a kind of broken mirror that makes the spectator's eyes wander. The flickering of the screen is a partial restoration of a lost paradise. It is the vibrato of a body in motion, the murmur of a language, and the movement of an immobile body. These are the effects that the invention of a new visual language produces in the spaces that it creates.

These spaces have been conceived in relation to what is constantly passing by: an onslaught of contrasts, yellows and oranges, of extremes that are hard to describe but which make the heart beat faster, the eyes scan the landscape, make the hair on the back of your neck stand up, and make your skin crawl.