Every story starts from the same point.
A bed.
A body.
Silence.
The space changes…
rooms, walls, external landscapes, light that falls differently each time.
But the bed remains.
As if it carries with it something that is not left behind.
Here, nothing is completely awake
and nothing is exactly a dream.
The body becomes an image before it becomes a word.
A movement that is cut off in half,
a breath that is heavy,
a memory that returns without explanation.
Sometimes it is calm.
Sometimes waiting.
And others… something darker,
that has no name but remains.
The bed becomes a scene.
And the body, the only witness.
What happens here,
does not ask to be explained.
Only to exist.
Like a film without beginning and end…
only moments.
In our most private landscape,
where everything is let loose
or never leaves:
in the bedroom.