The Mouth screams. Like a shadow, it looms on the event horizon. It swells, hunting the night like a snake in the dark. The laceration tears through the stars, devouring its meal. Within the nothing swims something of a memory of movement. Far beyond, something out of the black reveals itself. In the infinite womb, limbs drift suspended, like flies in a giant spider web. An infinite sea of pale flesh. Bodies without organs. Death's renewal awaits, as the bodies pass through the void.

A Green Ray that never features. Instead, we sense it – seeing beyond our own eyes, beyond the hills – we sense it for an instant. We are plunged into the unknowable, beyond the horizon, beyond seeing altogether. In a single 11 minute take, the film takes us from lush sunsets, to beyond the green ray, and into the gloaming, into the heavy night's darkness, where we await the impending storm.

A silent short, focusing on the beauty and melancholia of seeing horses in the cold fog, and the metaphors that manifest, as time passes.

A solitude found in the distant storm.

It is nightfall. A hunter lurks in the darkness, wandering further towards the impenetrable. Do the meanings lie in the stream, in the mountains, the stars, or in the death of things?

Through a structuralist and simultaneously ambiguous form, the image's reality treads closer to the abstract, leaving the sunset and trees behind. As we enter the image's gloaming, it reveals its true eye: reality's pure haptic energy, where there is nothing but sonorous light, and the dregs of the Unknown.