A threshold opens somewhere within. To the rhythm of deep respiration, two personal spaces come alive, come close to each other.

The image of an eye comes awake, new. A navel with no eyelid, the being moves forward and reaches out by its gaze.

The images of a garden swells by its breath. Inside runs lively, fugacious youth, girl and boy, caught in the embrace of the gaze.

Even before it is perceived by an outside animal, human or divine eye, there is within us, conjugated in every tense, the inexorable self-perception in which our own advancing creature is always swathed. Les Nimbes, these lights that both halo and rule, open the impossible angle/reverse angle of this performative gaze.