At this meeting, in which we are called to the interior of the "Organless Body", we are obliged to go off at a tangent, like transpiration rising from the skin, because all the paths are very well marked by now, even at the crossroads between different fields of knowledge. "Going off at a tangent" might consist of kicking out, speaking out, cutting someone off, giving them a slap on the back... to shake ourselves out of our slumber and be able to look at a place, to stare at a point that calls us, even if our gaze then jumps to other points of intensity arising out of that first look (from a proto-gaze, one might say). In order to look at a place, and for that place in turn to contemplate our look by encompassing us in its screen, we need to look from a place, at the exact moment in which the gaze manufactures that place, those two minimal places – in other words, both the place being looked at and the place from which we look)... But do we have eyes to see? Are we equipped with a body that can sustain an effective optic, effective eyes? One suffers, one enjoys, one desires, one even enjoys, in other words, one exists, always with one's body, and never without it. At this point, a smile would be useful... a smile like that of the Cheshire cat.

When the body of the Cheshire cat is no longer present before Alice's gaze, and its smile persists, it is sustained amazingly as a circumstance of what appears... Is it still one phantom part, a residue, of its figureless body, or is it an organ that continues to appear by itself as a figure, even though it does not belong to a structure? In this Wonderland of art, like Alice, we are seeing a dissemination of organs that no longer even seek a body to give them meaning (like six actors in search of a director, or that spilt liquid metal that sought to reconstruct itself into its body-machine in Terminator-II); rather they champion —epochal prestige— their uselessness as enemies of all bodies (Antonio Artaud); let us, then, take a look at this gap that may be anything from anything from one micron to light years thick ("I work in that space that separates the skin and the fabric", said Balenciaga), the interregnum of the interface, on might say, of the light membrane that articulates (by associating and/or disassociating) the phenomenonocity of an organic hardware (partial objects, pieces of flesh) with the figural of a corporal software (formalised totality, recognisable semblances); we operate —not without discomfort— in the mismatch between connecting and disconnecting, between uniting and disuniting: "this unit is always ideal, given that, if we analyse the body in question, we only find material parts, not what keeps them together. The oneness of a body slips away between our fingers" (Slavoj Zizek).