SYNOPSIS

It is the last day of Greta and Celeste’s first holiday together. “Will our love last forever?“ asks Greta, looking at the waves crashing on the shore. They are confronted with their fears and insecurities of their polyamorous context – they share a partner with whom Greta has a child.

Around them, strangers live their own relationship to the rocks and water. The waves keep hitting the rocks and, tracing each other's bodies and the stones, the two girls cannot help but notice the beauty of the sea’s and rock’s continued commitment to one another.

INTENTION

Over the past six years, I have focused my art practice on intimacy, challenging its sexualisation and romanticisation. I am rather interested in intimacy’s quality for shared transformation.

My short films, after a room and looking she said I forget, deconstruct intimacy through the body and relationship structures, exploring forms of love beyond conventional frameworks. Related to Time Comes Like The Sea, my own experience in a throuple was expansive for the parts of my ego I was confronted with, and the beauty of the breakthroughs it enabled.

Since going to the Amazon in 2022, I understood how the principles of intimacy that guided me can be applied to our environment. There, the way in which nature is creative, alive, and intelligent jumps to the senses; there is space for a lived relationship with the rocks, wind, water, and trees.

In my cinema, I now turn to nature and consider how the temporalities of sea and rock might reshape human relationships. This ecofeminist approach moves audiences towards ecological awareness through emotional connection. What is our relationship to this breathing earth, and how can this awareness restore empathy for one another’s vulnerabilities?