Foreigners is a new project that aims to enjoy the bodies and their images and to unveil them that which maked them, indeed, foreigners. Apparently filled with defined identity, foreigners, after all, are empty transversal beings. These figures are, in their definition, movements, whether of identification clichés, or behaviour genuine strangenesses. These beings wander between a collective, a pattern, and a lonelyness, the impersonal. Isolated, foreigners fulfill, internal or externally, two greta movements: arrival and departure. But what haunts us in the very notion of being foreigner in the whole world. Therefore, I could never forget Albert Camus’ The Foreigner as the absurd man, as the dive in the feeling of absurdity, just like Sartre wrote about this novel.