I tell stories from a distance.

I’m drawn to silence, to cold air, to the space between gestures.
My films stay where language thins—
the back of someone looking out, bamboo shifting at dusk, the wind pressing on snow.

I move with structure and stillness.
Timing is instinct. Framing, a kind of restraint.
Emotion doesn’t break.
It loops.
It leaves trace, then resets.

I tend to leave things unsaid.
What isn’t shown stays longer.
I don’t resolve. I wait.