Cosmo is the eulogy of the incomplete, the cult of absence, the search for a new balance through the reshaping of the ego. Man rediscovers a new order (cosmos) within his own spaces, between the architectural lines of the world he has constructed and in which he lives, as an integral part of it. The solitude of these figures is not interpreted as abandonment, but is a solitude that we face every day, an instant of immersion inside our thoughts, in our choices, however trivial or important they may be, where we become small compared to the world, because perhaps that is what we are.