Joselito Verschaeve interweaves black and white photographs of both day-to-day encounters and staged fiction from archives of the artist's own work, to create visual short stories which defy conventional interpretation. The recurring motif of the bird in many forms—as an illustration, origami creation, in-flight or emerging from sand—is interspersed with images of textured rocks, the moon and paths which lead and disappear off the page. The human presence in the images is slight—figures veiled, melding into the landscape or moving out of the frame, a grooved hand echoing the natural formation of rocks—all bit parts in the narrative. The images have been drawn from the artist's ever-accumulating archive, and have been selected and arranged in a rhythmic pattern, mimicking the act of writing a poem or a short novel. Drawing upon an aesthetic born from surrealism, the project hints at personal fascinations, alongside visions of dystopia feeding upon the portent of current threats and events. Verschaeve is interested in the idea of 'magical realism' and the addition of something 'extra' into the common-place and the mundane. The title is part of a Flaubert quote found in a Raymond Carver book, defining feelings towards important moments when one can't find the right vocabulary to express them.