La Detour de Santa Vittoria
A quiet reckoning with the ache of limitation - the kind that grows when what you long for appears just within reach, yet impossibly distant. Set in the hushed interstices of a dream deferred, the film traces the emotional terrain of watching others live the life of movement you imagine for yourself.
This is not a story of yearning, but of envy. Of detours that struggle to become destinations. Of the delicate tension of longing and not letting go.
What happens when the dream is not denied, but witnessed?
I’m Forcing Seagulls to Eat Themselves
A film, and a regret
A meditation on cycles. All things are interconnected and impermanent; the film reflects how every action however small, unthinking, or absurd returns to us altered. In gestures we barely register, the world folds back on itself.
This is not an ecological parable, nor a cautionary tale. It is a softly disorienting reminder that smetimes we lose sight of our connection to life - its patterns, its echoes, its fragile coherence. Sometimes we become participants in its undoing.
The circle turns yet we might forget we’re not the only ones rotating.
The Sky Sang First
Moving through the night. Through passing silhouettes and the liminal in-between, the Gayatri Mantra rises like a steady thread of light. It does not rush. It does not push. It guides. A chant for clarity, for truth, for remembering.
Beneath it, birdsong glimmers. Not loud, not foregrounded but insistent, ancestral, and alive. It carries the language of earth, even in darkness. Their calls mark time like distant stars, reminding us we’re not lost, only in motion.
Together, the mantra and the birds form a quiet duet. Divine and earthly, internal and external. The road unwinds between them, becoming not just a path through space, but a movement back into alignment: with place, with breath, with self.
By the time the journey ends, we haven’t merely arrived… we’ve returned.