The machine betrays its original function and is transformed into an emotional and historical object that reacts to physical proximity and communicates with its surroundings.
The photographical apparatus emulates mechanisms of war, revealing a romanticism conveyed to the viewer through frequencies of light and sound.

The Sonata's words -
the fear i love would always be
the love i fear because i see
one day i will be brave to shoot
point at us, then, will come the truth

now, my gaze lost its autonomy
the object i touched turn me upside down
forever i'm trapped, with no clue
the love i had, frozen by you

every emotion became a number
nothing last but sight
and the sound of a window closed

what left to do is split the one to two
or maybe three or four
now, i am you