This work is an attempt to overcome alienation amidst the fragmented construction reality of everyday narrative. Rethinking the meaning of reflections and shadows, framed subjects, body movements, screen, as well as sounds that are constructed by connecting the expression of their existence with the history of representation in modern art.

The uncomfortable feeling caused by the loss of identity experienced by provincial youngsters who move to Bangkok. Depression might result from growing up in the provinces in the middle of Bangkok, which is a different atmosphere. feeling unrecognizable and eventually losing your identity and thoughts without realizing it.

A ritual of grids, reflections and chasms; a complete state of entropy; a space that devours itself; a vertigo that destroys the gravity of the Earth; a trap that captures us inside the voids of the screen of light: «That blank arena wherein converge at once the hundred spaces» (Hollis Frampton).

Time lapse of clouds and a mimosa tree to the silhouette at dusk.

A dare from Swedishllama (UrolithicOak)

Bradley Eros is at the forefront of the NYC underground and experimental cinema movement, blending the boundaries of experimental film, expanded cinema, and performance art. Whether it be by himself or through one of his many collaborative groups, Eros reutilizes the visual language we all know in a sensory engaging and thought provoking way. Experience Eros and the Optipus Group collaborate on a piece that celebrates the life and death of celluloid.

A cinematic impression of Vietnam, told through the eyes of Vietnamese immigrants.

A collection of memories from a tumultuous time at University.

A walk in the woods become a metaphoric journey in Chloé Leriche's short film. As a solitary figure moves through the forest, the texture of stone, the movement of water, all the infinite pageantry of the natural world is captured in its richness and detail. With the help of an orchestrated soundscape and composed cinematography, Blue Suns catches the miracle and mystery of this world as it unfolds.

Saga, a kid tasked to make a film project, procrastinates, a lot. A habit that keeps coming back into his life continues to put him in rock bottom. He has a few ideas on how to embrace it.

The artist stalks and serenades Joe Dimaggio in her car as he strolls the docks unaware that she is videotaping his every step.

One day we visited Mauricio, a young man who daily experiences the metamorphosis of autism.

On a sleepy summer night in 2004, eyes peer into the world-wide-web: traveling between conspiracy sites, malware, porn, and mp3 databases in an attempt to lose (find) themselves. Passing through blog graveyards, broken hyperlinks, and digital spirits, they begin to realize the Internet is so much more. Lost websites, anon forums, and inexplicable pixels singing to a prepubescent soul. An ode to the 2000s webpage and flash game culture.

Images of something like nature struggling to endure against the noise of an entropic electronic signal.

Daily dedications to a minor artisan of the classical Hollywood western. Each segment was originally a kind of letter, a private correspondence, sent in fragments to a friend over a few weeks—an ode to R.G. but also to B.C. (an ode to cinema, to everyday life, and to the cinephilic fantasy of their becoming indistinguishable).

47 Days, Sound-less by Vietnamese artist Nguyễn Trinh Thi is a film that explores the relationships between sound and silence, vision, language, colours and their absence. Nguyễn identifies “peripheries”—including natural landscapes used as backdrops, uncredited characters and soundtracks from American and Vietnamese movies—that reveal more-than-human perspectives. Offering new ways of looking and listening, 47 Days, Sound-less invites audiences to reflect on the inextricable relationship between a place and its inhabitants.

Formally eclectic, the first few seconds of the film seem to introduce us to a typical sensory documentary, but soon the flow of the narrative evolves into a much more complex portrait of the port of Paita, by concatenating recordings made by the author himself, videos generated by an AI, Google Maps views and archival images.

An exploration of the space where femininity and criminality collide. The film collages archival footage clips culled from silent films, original footage and computer-generated imagery with a series of narratives drawn from true crime confessions, early criminological texts, and the filmmaker's own reflections. The result is a cool and piercing meditation on the way the categories of "woman" and "criminal" have been constructed.

String Quartet No.2, (1983) From the Seven Days, (1968)