It’s almost 6am.

I shoot 20ft of film:
My bed.
Unmade.

It takes me a while to remove
the eggshells from the omelette to be.
It takes me a long time to learn
how to play Bach’s concerto in D minor.
Maybe I can make a film
with the same patience.

The quietness
of freshly hung laundry.
The morning light bouncing off
marble and linen.

There are films hiding in plain sight.
A place I love, people I am attracted to,
time that passes.

I adjust the eyepiece to my prescription.
Then I forget about it.

Despair and longing.
Two sides of the same coin.
An image of a coin,
spinning.

(Text: Alexandros Pissourios)