"A documentary about a morgue." "Medieval sports." "Chamber plays." "Something with choirs." These belong to a long list of projects the artist was going to make but never did. After collecting ideas for a year and a half the artist realized the artworks on the list would never get made, so instead the artist gathered them into a video - in which the runoff of the artistic practice constitutes a piece in itself. The formula is seemingly pared down: the narrator describes the unrealized plans, over a slideshow of corresponding images, many of them black and white. But then diaristic explanations begin to creep in. The narrator describes the looming sensation of doubt they encounter periodically, when nothing is being produced, when they have so many ideas but knows none of them are good, when they are "both exhausted and over-rested." As the narration and imagery accumulates, even the runoff of an artistic practice - the extra ideas - overflow the container they're poured into. And as the unrealized plans pour out and the affective states of the artist do too, the video forms a recursive loop. It turns out the artist did make one of the ideas on the list: the idea for this video of unmade works. Finally, the loop unravels, unmakes itself, and the artist ends up outside in the snow, with a camera, taking snapshots of winter's quiet beauty. A sigh. Sometimes meaning makes itself.