The aesthetic power of Japanese women's makeup, of those cameos seeking to open planes or windows in the wood and in interpretation, of the seductive plumage of birds at rest, that miraculous and transcendental aesthetic power, I repeat, manages to configure a space of fiction or unreality that, more than inviting mere interpretation, places us at the powerful crossroads of construction or captivation, of action or contemplation.

And it is that aware of the limits of our world, we go hunting for what we do not even know how to name.