The breath as a necessity for life-support is a cyclic process of harvesting the air. We see air as one of the basic elements, a universal power of a pure substance, element of the spirit. We visualize it as the harvest of lights coming from the above skies and infinite oceans of dreams. Here comes the unearthly hour when the immortal dreamers fly upon the asleep world. Everything becomes idealized, full of forms, lines, curves and invisible presences. The soul of two humanoid contemplators, children of light is guided by the magical arc which links the dream world to the transcendent reality. A detached hymn surrounds their inner space and crosses the infinite ether where dreams collide. Enlightened by unknown splendors and peaceful gleams of the primordial universe, they restore the white, transparent and crystal-inflected dimension of the universal self. Contemplating the above skies they are immersed by the breathy and ineffable chant of the peaceful immensity. The harvest of infinite plains of dreams reveals the mystery of life at the hour when the candid creatures rest in the contemplative silence.
Jana Brike (Latvia) animation, scenario
Philippe S. Blache (France) music
Preview Berlin Art Fair, Sept. 2012
Animate Festival “Ritorno all’Alba/Back to the Sunrise” Rome, Aug. 2012
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Animation / Animaatio
Tight Throat is a recollection of a recurring nightmare that in turn became a phobia.
Whilst dreaming, often completely unrelated to what I had first been dreaming of I will suddenly start coughing. The coughing will become more aggressive as I start to feel short of air, I become more aware of the fact I cant breathe and the coughing turns to choking as I desperately try to remove and dislodge the lump that has formed in my throat. The sensation of something being stuck in my throat sends me into panic mode and I then begin to gag to desperately try to regurgitate whatever is blocking my airways. My breathing comes out in short rasps as I begin to panic and sweat feeling the back of my tongue with my fingers, I feel wispy hair creeping up from the back of my throat. I tug on the hair with my fingers and start to pull it out of my throat the sensation of the hair running across my tongue and taste buds makes my body cringe.
What will start off as a few strands turns drastically into a tangled, thick, matted rope of hair, which seems never ending, as I continue to pull it out of my throat. The texture is wet and slimy with spit almost like seaweed, and I continue to gag and panic as they hair keeps coming I quicken the pace as I get more desperate to breathe and the hair just gets thicker and harder to pull, this results in my jolting awake in a state of panic, sweating profusely.
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Photography / Valokuvaus, Story / Tarina