In a remote clearing on the water, an artist plays hide and seek with her self-portrait– evading the lens around the dark corners of spiderwebs and slug trails in the seclusion of the forest.
Afraid to disturb the stillness found within quiet wind and rain, there exists here a nervous disorientation of time. With her, we wait in a limbo of light that exists somewhere between the transition of night and day for resolution, seeking balance within the grey spaces of experimental film.
The Greyhour rocks back and forth in translations of disquiet, between meditations of cinematic serenity in nature and the undercurrents of an isolated anxiety. An experiential short born from the instinct to self-isolate in order to create, it works as a sensory exploration of disassociation and discomfort, faced with upcoming concerns as to the purpose and identity of an artist in their wider context.