o limite da arte é o limite da vida [the limit of art is the limit of life] — the phrase travels along the room in neon, from the door to the back, and is read while walking. On the way, two ice cubes hold two halves of an apple and a heart — You are her and she is you, You are here to risk your heart. Cut in half, the apple opens onto two halves that mirror each other; the heart is what is risked. During the opening, the ice slowly melts and releases them; the objects and the molten water is what is left from what happened. The neon remains lit, the ice dissolves only once: two time modes in the same room. I move in electric time: to move within a time that runs quickly and that at the same time is held, between body, desire, and what resists.