It begins with an empty factory, a surname, and a trunk of files; it's the poetic journey of an aspiring filmmaker in her grandmother's house, while awaiting the arrival of her first child. This was me five years ago. A fantasy between oblivion and the invisible; woven from scattered materials, archival documents, and wordplay, for a film diary about the transformation of the female body, the question of impossible transmission, and the fabric of time.
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