Life, as a matter of time, a sigh in the overall calculation of the cosmos, a spark of energy in the infinite coldness, a Trivial existence before the eyes of creation. It will last as long as this sand falling to the ground lasts, then it will be lost for all the Eternity. Time, as a human condition, is the structure always pointing to the end, always carrying us with it while everything Fades away. It rules every affair in our presence. Our 'forever' is a short term in the universal countdown to nowhere. Countless inner links compose the perfect gears to set all this plenitude into motion. We are nothing but the cosmos itself, a consequence of the architecture of life. And I wake my eyes from these tiny hands to this starry night and admire the beginning of a myriad of Stories like ours. Every single part fits in this strange and amazing poise that makes me feel irrelevant, but immeasurable at the Same time. I will always feel delighted about the complexity holding this moment, this little spark. The insignificance of a sigh in a life makes sense to an entire universe confined perfectly in these tiny hands, Recalling every step that time has tracked. By Iban de Dios / Guillem Rejón / Sergi Gracia