Rustle

Video, HD, 19:53 min, 2023

     I began filming Rustle shortly after the birth of my daughter. The birth, bringing new life into the world, and the speed in which she grew, made the fleetingness of time and the fact of our mortality tangible for me every day. The fear of forgetting and missing moments or periods in her life lead me to try to document the time, immortalize the changes and fleeting moments in our everyday life, wishing that maybe this way I could gain control over it.

     Early on in the work process I chose to refrain almost entirely from filming my daughter and only record her changing voice during the first years of her life. Instead of filming her I filmed the manifestations of the sun and the outside world inside our home - the transition from light to darkness, the way light moves across the curtains and the shadows it reveals of the growing plants outside the window. Alongside these documentary segments, I intervened with the natural rhythm of time, and staged visual gestures of attempts to grasp the sunlight with the palms of my hands, to mould its form and predict the direction of its movement.

     Filming over a long period of time, tracking the sun, which exposes in its brightness the shadows of plants and birds, the voices of neighbors and dogs, and lets them vanish as it sets; the changing voice of my daughter growing and transitioning from the mumbling of a baby into the clear language of a child - all these sensually express for me the passing of time, the beauty that exists in life and with it, the sorrow over its fleetingness.