This series of portraits, contrary to what the name indicates, does not portray anyone real. All these faces emerged from the white paper, with pencil strokes. Unknown men and women, fruits of the imagination. Some with puzzled looks, perhaps because they knew an unexpected existence. Others cheerful, serious, melancholy. Although they are not the portrait of a specific person, they end up being, like any portrait, a mirror of the moods of the soul, of our soul. So they are not portraits of old people, or people of the present, or even of future people. But of what has always characterized people: feelings.