Every photograph is a record, a result that surpasses all previous ones, denoting absolute superiority in terms of adherence to contemporaneity, reality, verisimilitude, and resolution. Furthermore, every photograph is also a frame, so every frame is also a record. 
If this is the case, then every frame is also a record, in the English sense of the word, i.e., the recording of a fragment of information. Photography, therefore, is presented within this research project as a discipline of re-còrd, a discipline of re-calling, or of recalling in the present of one's heart (where the ancients believed memory resided) and of one's feelings something that is no longer here or no longer now: no longer an experience of nostalgia but a practice of caring for the present.
Remember what? The feeling of returning to a place you never left and where you have never been. The language veers towards the zero degree of writing through images that are archaic, direct, amateurish in the sense of “produced by an amateur,” by someone who loves, as if left there by shepherds: following the subtle traces of frames produces uprooting and disorientation of personal time and space and produces a projection of alignment with the place, photographed here as if the eye had always belonged to these unpublished geographies, free to express itself through technical and linguistic amateurism, as if photographing for the first time.