41.2 degrees north. 1.8 degrees east. Just a small dot on the map, a speck in the immensity of the universe. At precisely this point, a crossroads, and through the four seasons of a year, a camera studies the daily traffic of people and the transformation of the landscape, proving Heraclitus right: everything flows. Who has never let their imagination wander while watching, from a corner, what other people do? Imma Serra lets herself be seduced by small gestures, by glances, by half-heard conversations. By everything we do when nobody else is paying attention.
