Fingers with small, rounded nails graze gently over a bare shoulder before tracing a practised, melting path along a brown collar bone. They curl against the smooth skin there, coming to rest.
by the breast of girl
There is a soft lion toy sitting amongst rose-patterned sheets, and it is jostled by the movement of Maria as she shifts into a seated position. Evelyn stays lying down, all smiles and pink lips, and Maria looks away from her. The curtains are heavy… or are they light and floating? For a moment, everything is dreamlike and shifting, but not in any way frightening or unsettling. Evelyn takes Maria’s hand and everything stills. The grip of Evelyn’s hand on Maria smaller one is grounding and firm. The air is warm reds and quiet, unobtrusive oranges, twisting and melting into pinks and golden honey.
Honey, drizzling in excess into a pot of steaming liquid, spices and cloves floating in the milky tea. There are two worn mugs placed on a kitchen bench, accompanied by two very different sketchbooks; one showing a bold mandala pattern and cursive writing, the other, delicate features and sketches of a person resembling the other woman, with quiet and uniform annotations in the corners.
Maria and Evelyn are sitting in a cafe, again there are two mugs, one has far too much whipped cream. They sit surrounded by other people. One of the women, Evelyn, is engaged in conversation with the others, happily the centre of attention. The other silently has her head rested against the first’s shoulder, smiling softly and reading a book. She swirls her mug, and the whipped cream spins gently, warm brown peaking around the sides.
Hands hold a toy lion in the face of a smiling, mussed woman, who reaches up to touch its face and rubs her nose against its own.
The roses on the sheets grow and wind over the forms beneath the sheets, blanketing them. There is a yellow glow in the corner. Evelyn fiddles with a phone, the light goes out and she plugs it in before tucking it beneath her pillow. She rolls to face Maria and falls asleep.
The curtains open gently with a breeze, and Evelyn, asleep, is illuminated in a glow from a blue-white light. Maria remains awake, and reaches down to caress a rose on the sheets.
A hand caresses a rose, and there is Maria, sitting in the grassy clearing of a forest. She picks up the delicate rose and presses it to her lips. Light dapples over the woman, shifting and illuminating the petals of the rose until the silvery light freezes the rose. The sharp cold of the freshly frozen rose on Maria's lips shocks and burns her, and with tears welling, she drops the rose to the grass in front of her.
The red of the rose turns to the red of Evelyn's lips and she sleeps on.
Maria rolls to face Evelyn and closes her eyes. Her lips remain frostbitten and blistered.
Maria is in a different bedroom, looking into a full-length mirror. She touches the blistering of her lips and gingerly applies a salve before throwing the tube onto a bed behind her and smoothing her hair.
The two are sitting at a cafe table, Maria is leaning over and drawing intently while Evelyn is occupied by her phone. Evelyn chatters excitedly all the while, and Maria looks up from her drawing and just watches her, listening and smiling.
Maria sits alone on the floor in front of a sofa in a dark room, watching fireflies in a forest bouncing paths of light on the television. She is practically bouncing and glittering fireflies are reflected in her eyes, and she turns quickly, smiling brightly when Evelyn comes to sit on the couch by her head. Maria talks excitedly to Evelyn but when she looks back at her, Evelyn is occupied by her phone and not listening to her. Maria turns off the television and shifts onto her knees to face Evelyn.
Maria sits alone in the darkness of the forest, her rose is frozen at her knees. Her hands dig into the grass beneath her, tearing it out in chunks, leaving blades of grass everywhere.
Evelyn is holding hands with an unknown man. Maria sits across from them, smiling gently before averting her eyes.
Maria’s hands are wet and her fingers green-tinted when she brings them up to her face.
Maria sits on her bed and glances over at her phone which is quiet and dark.
Maria lies in the grass, torn grass in her hair, red in her eyes, and blue on her lips.
Maria lies in her own bed, she reaches for the stuffed lion only to find that it isn't there.
Rolling onto her side, she stares out the window.
There is tea left over in the pot when Maria sits at the kitchen bench with her mug. She drinks it all and goes back for the rest.
There's water, a lake in rich greens and blue. Evelyn holds Maria close as she sits in an inflatable doughnut. They both laugh as Maria kicks her legs in the water.
Maria sits alone in a cafe, drawing and sipping a mug with whipped cream.
The two women sit on the floor, Maria crying into her knees and Evelyn shielding her from the world, smoothing her hair and holding her close.
Maria stands in front of the mirror, applying lip balm to her lips, and cream to her cheeks. She puts her hair up into braids and straightens her shirt.
Flowers grow up from the floor, from beneath her bed and from her hair, until all that Maria sees in the mirror is her own face surrounded by a garden of flowers.
My film this year, titled by the breast of girl, is based on a poem written c. 2015. It's a queer short about love for other people, love for yourself and personal development.
I'm really anxious about bringing this piece into the world, and I'm very worried about what people will think but I'm also really excited to make something beautiful! As a lovely person I admire said to me, "we cut off our own joy all the time. Don't do that shit no mo"
Also, "life is short. Do that thing. Don't look back." I have to keep reminding myself but I'm sure it'll all work out.
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