Sweat and bodily fluids dissolve in a hot and steamy emerald bath. A burning candle drips onto damp skin. Plunging into the water, the humanoid figure finds herself in a thick of insomnia trances and therapy lamps. To be in “hormony” with oneself. Meanwhile, the forest is still shrouded in fog and linear time long lost. Drifting between melancholy, tree barks and lust drops, Nora Lune’s fictional forest (s)elf, re-discovers her own desires.