For instance, there is something new about my hands, a certain way of picking up my pipe or fork. Or else it's the fork which now has a certain way of having itself picked up, I don't know. A little while ago, just as I was coming into my room, I stopped short because I felt in my hand a cold object which held my attention through a sort of personality. I opened my hand, looked: I was simply holding the door-knob. This morning in the library, when the Self-Taught Man came to say good morning to me, it took me ten seconds to recognize him. I saw an unknown face, barely a face. Then there was his hand like a fat white worm in my own hand. I dropped it almost immediately and the arm fell back flabbily.

There are a great number of suspicious noises in the streets, too.

Jean-Paul Sartre, Nausea







The Sun Shone Glaringly
Recent Photographs
Casting Calls
Diamonds Are Forever
Man With Buoy
Looking for Lee Ming
The Raccoon Shirt Coincidence
Mimesis is Not Adaptive Behavior



POV (2013)
15 minutes

Score by Gerhard Schultz