Recently, my grandmother died in Argentina, and I brought back to Brazil a large family photo archive. Most of the pictures where cut in half by my mother, which I managed to rescue from the garbage bin. From these pieces my work begins. I join them in a free way, trying to listen and establish secret links. In this way I propose to recreate a family album, creating fictional stories. This process allowed me to continue ripping photographies, to create through absence, and through the remains. The title is due to a sentence written by my grandmother behind one of the pictures. I feel it attempts to question the eternal human dissatisfaction.