Frame is the second to last page of a family album. It shows the last year of life of my grandfather Vincenzo. A brief insight of everyday life made of words and musics dear to him. It's not a documentary, but the intimate and deficient search for a memory through the images. The image of a man, the superhuman and impossible effort to understand who it was, and what meaning he had for me. For this reason it's an incomplete work, as certain thoughts, so close as unfathomable. And the thoughts of my grandfather are sometimes fractionated, they strive to be, but then stop, like a film frame, oxidized by time.