I have never slept as much as I did here, on the European border with Russia… The sleep was thick like overcooked apple jam, paralysing like the smell of burnt sugar in the air. It reminded me of my childhood, of dinners at my granny’s tiny flat. She’d offer us dry chicken and mushy cauliflower. … Continue reading I film with my body, I edit with my breath, I wish you’d fall asleep while watching this hot mess …