It is difficult to identify anything between the green and red pixels,. Points that themselves have recorded the scene and also obscure it, leaving behind a vague halo. It’s as if everything is on the verge of shattering; on the verge of evaporating and turning into suspended particles.

The most formless element of the picture is the sleeping body. A body with erased identity. A body we consider lifeless and experiencing a temporary death. Death itself depends on the concept of stillness, but the process of capturing (the photograph) contradicts death. Long exposure and the fading of the body tell of nocturnal movements. Movements of a body that must have dreamt the experiences of its restless soul. A dream which, if remembered after waking, is a mixture of reality and illusion. Of elements that seem real but are unbelievable. Of the hand hanging over the chair on the right and the devouring darkness on the left. Of the bright reflection of the window on the wall and the dark, seemingly empty triangle on the floor, and of the half-finished paintings and their intersection with switches that, if turned on, would burn the photograph entirely and end the dream. The end of death or awakening.