Toward a Course Bend All (2024)
A night of tortured and solitary sleep, in which fears unfold and a bell tolls. This film was begun amidst the deepest dredges of abject loneliness, a time of my life in which I felt enveloped entirely in a sort of spiritual miasma, a dark pool with no surface. It was my way of purging my most attacking anxieties, a direct reckoning without avoidances or allowances. Most of the footage therein was captured, as usual, with my phone, albeit with intermingling fragments of a home-movie version of Robert Florey’s 1946 film The Beast with Five Fingers. The images of Peter Lorre’s paroxysmic expressions of guilt and a vengefully strangling disembodied hand felt especially significant in the period of my life during which the film was conceived and assembled. 13m.
Bluebeam (2024)
A visitation of light, reaching into abyssal woe. Inspired by an immersion in the works and days of Stan Brakhage. 3m.
The Time of Signs and Wonders (2023)
Standing still in the midst of recursivity. I had been working on this film for some months when my computer and hard drives, containing the rough cut and all source footage, were stolen from my home. I tried and failed to rebuild the film as it had been. What results is a tracing of time lost, an obscure document of my inability to move beyond, seeking an endpoint on a spinning wheel. 12m.
Winter Wept (2022)
A short poem for a long winter. I filmed this very much on a whim, through the blinds of our living room window, with digital zoom and a floundering autofocus. As I began to layer the footage I found that the opposing movement and fluttering focus and serendipitously selected music would occasionally rhyme rather sweetly. It came together nearly without me. 4m.
Sanctus Nox (2022)
Found 8mm footage of a family Christmas in 1958. The footage untouched is rich enough, but I felt there was a deep circuity within it, as if it could start over from the beginning forever and no one would notice (and so the footage does, a few times, repeat, backwards and forwards, within and without). Family reaches in eternal directions, on and under the surface. What child is this? 5m.
The Wheel’d Universe (2022)
From a found reel of 8mm film labeled “GUNS — LAKE — 69.” The amplitude of time recollected, a hasty communion with weathered memory. Lightly directed and deeply felt, a blend of film and digitalia rendering the shapes of living things as sparking designs on the face of the void. 18m.
Paroxysm: Fear (2022)
Coming to a head. This is a true experiment, a film born of endless tinkering, as well as a pure expression of consumptive, rather than productive, paranoia — a world full of noise and a light that hurts to see. Filmed with my phone in the attic and backyard. 4m.
Thresholder (2022)
A lucid nocturne, a final dream before total consumption, a tripping and a falling through infinite consecutive vernal corridors. Filmed in and around an abandoned home outside Tulsa. 5m.