Her hands, autonomous, pick out some refrain buried deep within her core like a tuning fork sustaining a long clear note without diminuendo. Seeing with unearthly eyes, fixed as if hypnotized by shining shapes, she disappeared into brilliance
Creative Fragments
Still from Episode 4 – A Lovers spat

Still you beckoned me with your availability, your parlour games, your desire to cater to every whim, the promise to fulfil any fantasy. Your body gorged my vision. Replete with the extent of you, I could never see the end of you, never see beyond you, never get outside you, never get inside you…yet…always the feeling of you moving inside me. And it clings, and it rings and the falling begins.
Photo stills from Episode 5 The Death of the Author – Letters to the Landscape


