Chapter 2: Dispersal

We see different shots of fluffy clouds. They are accompanied by the rhythmic sound of train tracks, providing an ominous background.

My eyes always followed clouds
these fluffy white ones - you know
that shapeshift into dreams and hopes - carried by whispering winds
Carrying stories
Of habitats of freedom
Of opportunities
Of things
in many shapes, in many colours, many tastes..
I thought

and so I decided one day to followed it
This innate longing for elsewhereness.

Was I carried by the wind?
Or a red audi?
Did I travel through the stomach of a bird?
I hear the sound of train tracks echoing through my heart..

Following migration routes..
With the raising of the sun,
I went westwards
............Westwards
...................westwards

Still chasing clouds
They slowly acclimated until
And their existence faded
into one grey colour only

And then
I landed

Painfully
On compacted soils
The Reality of strangeness hit me
No ancestry no familiarity, no hyphae,
sun's beams muted
Almost buried by the grey

I moved my seeding body into the cracks of the soil
hugging me tight, my body wrapped around itself – in safety.
I knew that I needed to be buried too
in darkness,

And so
I slowly started to Lose sight
of the only thing i knew
- the sky

Clouds, shot through a train window, is taking their place. The camera (hand held/ vlog like) moves away from the window, showing the coupe in which the daughter is. It’s a typical sleeper coupe, driving out of Kyiv. The daughter is melanonic, missing this place already, and trying to document everything that see sees because it could be the last time.

Tracing back the migration routes of her family, the daughter continues documenting the long travel. The rhythms, the sceneries, the borders, all of it has emotions and meloncinies of its own. During this travel, she focuses on some small things, like a red Audi that passes by. The camera continues to be drawn by the sky. The travel from Kyiv to Germany and then further to the Netherlands is long. (or the other way around?)

As the daughter comes closer to her destination, the sky becomes more grey and she loses sight of it.

Still hearing train tracks, we arrive in Rotterdam. The scenery of Rotterdam compares with germany and Hamburg in some ways, but in others its completely different.

The sound of train tracks mixes more gradually with the voice of her mother asking: “Why did you decide to leave?” As she lands on foreign soils, the documentary-like shots are interrupted by scenes of stylised shots of the protagonist lying on the floor in pain, wrapping her body around herself like a seed, in safety, only her mothers voice churning, like a lullaby.