In the same intense way, I like William Eggleston for his peculiar manner of approaching insignificant spaces, providing them with a magical aura. I like the photographic work of Tina Barney, especially A Survey of Family Photography, which presents a multiplicity of actions and bodies filling the frame, yet there is always an area of it that is completely empty. I’m interested in provoking that sense of vertigo upon reality, in which the elements presented as essential become less meaningful in order to make way for the new conflicts that were submerged and start to surface surreptitiously. The characters in the film have a fleeting conscience of knowing they are here in transit, not really attached to anything, living in an inadequate world they constantly try to fit in, where old plans are cancelled as new ones emerge, causing cracks of unexpected happiness. Each culture has to find a narrative form that matches its idiosyncrasy, and I believe that the nature of our nation is related to some sort of transitory feeling, in which things can change any time. The narrative form is based on the unusual, the transitory, the continuation of situations that lead to unexpected consequences, where objects, dialogues and spaces are linked as they move the group of people forward, like they were atoms drawn together and pulled apart, provoking emotions in them. This film comes from my urge to reflect upon the way we deal with grief, what gets transformed within us, how we spend our time, and about the vividness of living riskily. There is a crossing between two times, the more familiar and quotidian one, embodied in all the house chores and tasks typically involved when running a family home and working out problems alongside others, and the more vertiginous, cyclical, eternal one, related to questioning the meaning of things. The film comes across as an inquiry in Marcela’s personal journey, as she encounters lack of meaning, and an immediate urge to retrieve it in her every step. Which of all those intangible elements are the ones that is absorbed by mourning, which of them are passed on, and which disappear for good? In a privileged state of quiet reflection, she is forced to acknowledge her own finiteness, which enables her to make more authentic choices. Marcela experiences the beginning of a transformation. She is left with the void of being, as of now, the oldest member in her family. The main lead loses her sister, and with her goes a part of Marcela’s tangible world: the talks they used to have, their similar way of arranging objects at home, the shared anecdotes, the grimaces, the emotions.