Shadows of people inhabit a wintry road, casting darkness over the tracks. What happens when this substance is washed away by fleeting reflections and blended into new matter, color and forms? And sound: feet tramping endlessly round, round like hands on a clock. This is happening now... - Sue Anne Moody
Director
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Sign inStatusReleased: 19 years ago
January 1, 2006
LanguageUnknown
Spoken LanguagesUnknown
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