It is an approach to the figure of Fernando Martín Peña, but it is also a film about cinema, about a transcendental movement in its history, its spaces and rituals.

Clara is on her way out of the city on a family trip to the outskirts. She receives a message from Martina, her childhood friend, the person she'd been with the night of the tragedy at the República Cromañón club, bringing the idea of motherhood into the foreground. This shot of the present day and reality in a series of WhatsApp texts, home videos and family lunches sparks an exhaustive look back at her own adolescence and that of her friends in a city ravaged by the crisis and by a tragedy.

After years of delay, a long-planned journey finally begins. The filmmaker imposes a quiet rule: only one shot per day. This self-imposed rhythm becomes a daily ritual of observation, recording, and reflection. What emerges is a filmed diary—a chronicle of wonder that maps both external landscapes and internal states. Each image carries a lingering question: what does it mean to continue making films? Through unfamiliar territories, filmmaking transcends documentation to become an act of presence and an attempt to rediscover meaning. The result is a meditation on cinema itself—its persistence, solitude, and transformative power over the everyday.