There is a pla­ce whe­re eve­ry­thing is lea­king and drip­ping. There is a pla­ce whe­re things are not as they seem. There is a pla­ce whe­re eve­ry­thing is on the edge of tip­ping over into some­thing else. A pla­ce whe­re eve­ry­thing is hol­ding onto bre­ath. Where the rela­ti­ons bet­ween cau­se and effect, living and non-living, arti­fi­ci­al and natu­ral, are uncer­tain, uncan­ny. Various lands­ca­pes appear to quick­ly blur together again. They morph bet­ween swamps, moun­tains, under­ground caves, bac­te­ri­al cul­tu­res. They melt, morph and mix, they get stuck in end­less con­ta­mi­na­ted loops until they dis­sol­ve, disin­te­gra­te, sulk and spill. Invisible for­ces play a lea­ding role: humi­di­ty,
waves, gra­vi­ty and the elec­tro­mag­ne­tic field beco­me a moving for­ce, and some­thing so sim­ple as cau­sa­li­ty beco­mes a magi­cal affair.