Celluloid film is similar to plants but also to lagoons. The process of printing an image on light-sensitive material is reminiscent of the photosynthesis process that plants undergo when they capture sunlight. In turn, the surface of a lagoon acts as a mirror, reflecting or ‘projecting’ images.

There is another remarkable link between cinema and nature, specifically with water. A film like Borde de nieve, which uses both analogue film and digital images, is made possible by a generous stream of consciousness, like a rippling river of ideas. Through disjointed fragments, the film moves us through landscapes and generates a pilgrimage experience.

The melting mountain peaks serve as a metaphor; the vanishing ice releases new manifestations of the landscape. The ecosystem underwent various forms of violence; layer after layer of melting exposes human passage and destruction. Social crises thus become visible in the biosphere: rivers and mountains as witnesses of a struggle. The mountain ranges lead us to the past or the future, both as access or escape routes. The film’s central mountain thus provides a geological, spatial, temporal, and symbiotic encounter. Meanwhile, I walk on.