The Shape Of Absence
There are things war has taken from our lives, and things time takes from our memories. Somewhere between the two, I try to hold on to whatever I can.

There are things war has taken from our lives, and things time takes from our memories. Somewhere between the two, I try to hold on to whatever I can.

Grief has a strange way of bringing you back home. And somewhere between all of that, there was the sea.

Could it be that we have been carrying fragments of the past, present, and future here, too? What if the coffee cup is a portal, a liminal space holding questions, doubts, fears, hopes, and dreams?

The fear they learned to live with. The silence they mistook for survival. And somehow, traces of those traumas can find their way into us.

An experimental short film about how the outside world colonizes the body, preventing it from fully inhabiting itself.

Maybe memory isn’t always preserved in photographs or books, but in movement, and in what the body inherits without words.