Passages begins with water. Why water? To answer, to explain, I’d be clutching at straws. Anything I say would sound fake and artificial. I really don’t know why it begins with water. And that’s the honest truth.

Passages is a story of crossings and transformations. A woman steps out of the past, but why? For revenge, which her ferociousness might suggest? By chance, which her initial disorientation leads us to believe? To find someone or something and reclaim it? And where exactly is she returning to?

She returns from exile, and appears suddenly. Maybe she’s been brought there – to that place outside of consciousness, to that secret, intimate, inner place – by water. She might seem disoriented but she knows just what to do. 

I’d like everything to feel enveloped in a light mist, distantly serene, like a strange and transitory hallucination. 

It’s a passage from one state to another. A crossing through oneself, through one’s consciousness. Deep in one’s mind.