Chalk Compass traces a woman’s passage through luminous thresholds—home, studio, garden, street, windows, stairwells, pools, sea walls—where the body becomes both vessel and compass. Her gestures oscillate between embrace, contortion and supplication as chalk circles inscribe paths of protection, navigation and return. Fire consumes, smoke rises; sand, trees, sea, mountains and temples surround her. Each element becomes a symbol of transmutation and renewal. The ritual repetition of chalk boundaries—both sacred spaces and portals—enacts conscious permeability and spiritual or archetypal alignment. Presences, movements and marks are often placed at the edge of the frame. Accompanying the Compass are a black cat and a centenarian Cassandra who punctuates the three acts with ominous rhyming couplets, ad libitum. The film is edited in the form of Terza Rima, in homage to Dante Alighieri’s Divine Comedy.

I work with space, light and matter to create environments that embody both transience and stability—places that invite a pause and a shift in attention. Installations, films, paintings and texts are connected by a shared interest in perception: how we frame the world, what we lose as we move through it, and how light and shadow, structure and time can introduce subtle shifts in our sense of where we are and who we are. I often intervene in “found” spatial conditions with essential, ephemeral or reclaimed materials (fabric, mirror, stone, photographs, pigment, food, smell), domestic elements made slightly strange—more to be experienced than read. There is a cinematic current, but without narrative: rather than illustrating an idea, I seek a sensory and temporal situation in which something can happen quietly. I avoid spectacle in favour of resonance—the kind that remains, held in the body’s memory.