In all the time that has passed, in all the films I've made and in all the films that were never made, sketches that remained forgotten in drawers, cupboards, and on shelves, silent witnesses of a filmmaker's life, undelivered letters, enthusiasm, ideas, visions doomed to oblivion that I now seek to assemble, through images and scattered writings thrown here and there.

Motionless images, you would say, frozen in the time of a frame, stopped for a few seconds on the small screen of a movie projector. If the materials that make up this book are not distributed justly, as they should be in an orderly filmography, it is because such order, such definitive classification, would suit more a chronicler than me, an ideologue of disorder.

(. . .) [Excerpt from publisher's or edition's presentation text]