15th of July. Paris. Opera Bastille, first. Last performance of McGregor's piece : "L'anatomie de la sensation". Then running to Opera Garnier. Last performance too, and farewell. An artist saying "good bye". Turning pages. Opening and closing times....

I’ve been writing long stories about people who hardly existed. And moments later they became almost real. Just like that. And I smiled. I sent a letter one day too late. And didn't smile. I sent other letters that haven’t been read. Not really. And I...

When it is not limited to fiction, the film mystifies time and reality, and therefore films are much more violent than still images. Memories are still. You can't remember precisely the beauty of the gesture, you can remember the frozen moment, the moment...