Reverie

An elderly woman is lying on a flowery bed. She is drifting off for her afternoon nap. A fly is buzzing around. Behind the woman a mountain ridge undulates across the horizon. The scene has a Mediterranean touch. A gate opens and sleep comes. Images begin to roll out. The sky. The sea. Fluttering laundry. Bleating sheep.
"I film the lingering moments, the space occupied by memories, the intangible , " says Ulla Boye about her poetic, dialogueless film, made up of fleeting, fable-like image fragments. "I film at a slow pace, a visual arabesque of the kind you sink into just before you fall asleep."