My daughter’s name is Maya. I’ve been told that the word maya means illusion in Hindu philosophy. In 2001, I photographed her at six years old, spinning like a top around me. Even then, I realized that her childhood was not something I could grasp but rather – like the wind – something I could feel tenderly brushing across my cheek. Eleven years later, I pull out my 16mm Bolex camera once again and she allows me to film her – different but somehow the same. Director’s Citation, Black Maria Film Festival, 2013.
Same Stream Twice
Stills From Video
More Films By Film Maker
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And Then We Marched
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Wind In Our Hair
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The Task of the Translator
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Sound of a Shadow
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Your Day is My Night
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Drift and Bough
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Starfish Aorta Colossus
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Viva and Felix Growing Up
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Tip of My Tongue
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The Last Happy Day
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Carolee, Barbara and Gunvor
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The Washing Society
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Day Residue
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A Year in Notes and Numbers
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A Month of Single Frames
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Girl is Presence
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Film About a Father Who
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Maya at 24
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Investigation of a Flame
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Still Life with Woman and Four Objects
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Following the Object to Its Logical Beginning
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Sermons and Sacred Pictures
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The House of Science: a museum of false facts
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Which Way Is East
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A Biography of Lilith
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Window Work
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Photograph of Wind
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Drawn and Quartered
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Tornado
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Atalanta: 32 Years Later
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Noa, Noa
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The Small Ones
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States of UnBelonging
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XY Chromosome Project
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Georgic for a Forgotten Planet
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Cuadro por Cuadro
