NYX is a city where time and space intertwine. Its buildings, streets and parks are the places-memories visited by a sole subject. While some appear clear and understandable, others, blurred by the unconscious, appear altered in dreams. This abstract construction is to be understood from two angles: a first representation where space unfolds in time, along trajectories (INHIBITION), a second where time unfolds in space, where the city takes shape (EXHIBITION).

The trajectory merges not only with the subjectivity of those who travel through a milieu, but also with the subjectivity of the milieu itself, insofar as it is reflected in those who travel through it. The map expresses the identity of the journey and what one journeys through. It merges with its object, when the object itself is movement.

A human being who should dream his life instead of living it would no doubt thus keep before his eyes at each moment the infinite multitude of the details of his past history.

D’une manière à peine plus transgressive, on peut penser à un partage reposant, non plus sur des rythmes circadiens, mais sur des rythmes heptadiens: cela nous donnerait des appartements de sept pièces, respectivement appelées: le lundoir, le mardoir, le mercredoir, le jeudoir, le vendredoir, le samedoir et le dimanchoir. [...] Le lundoir pourrait parfaitement être une buanderie (nos aïeux ruraux faisaient leur lessive le lundi) et le mardoir un salon (nos aïeux citadins recevaient volontiers chaque mardi).

From this point of view, it does not seem that the real and the imaginary form a pertinent distinction. A real voyage, by itself, lacks the force necessary to be reflected in the imagination; the imaginary voyage, by itself, does not have the force, as Proust says, to be verified in the real. This is why the imaginary and the real must be, rather, like two juxtaposable or superimposable parts of a single trajectory, two faces that ceaselessly interchange with one another, a mobile mirror.

In Ersilia, to establish the relationships that sustain the city's life, the inhabitants stretch strings from the corners of the houses, white or black or gray or black-and-white according to whether they mark a relationship of blood, of trade, authority, agency. When the strings become so numerous that you can no longer pass among them, the inhabitants leave: the houses are dismantled; only the strings and their supports remain.

Se réveiller dans un autre temps, c'était naître une seconde fois, adulte. Le choc était trop fort. Après avoir ainsi projeté dans différentes zones du temps des corps sans vie ou sans conscience, les inventeurs se concentraient maintenant sur des sujets doués d'images mentales très fortes. Capables d'imaginer ou de rêver un autre temps, ils seraient peut-être capables de s'y réintégrer.

Je crois me réveiller. Il y a plein de soubrettes dans la chambre. Mais est-ce bien ma chambre ?

Je suis près d'une pièce d'eau. Pour la traverser, j'emprunte une passerelle qui devient un pont suspendu sur la Seine. On arrive au milieu ; on voit la date 1953.

Quelqu'un a volé la lettre que j'avais dans ma poche.