As adjustments between images and within them, the film roams provisionally along the 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, landing on the surface, such metamorphoses do not necessarily concern the intimate nature of things, in the presence of that curious dualism which somehow distinguishes them unconditionally as vague and singular cosmologies.