When one poetically inhabits the world and has not made the mistake of cutting ties with childhood, reality is never trivial and can take on enchanted folds. Hands try to touch each other, objects know how to move in time to music, the roots of a tree take care of a vagabond, the curtains of a café resemble the clothes of a diva and 'it is inexplicable how people pass by them carelessly and without noticing their splendour'.