That Cloud Never Left
In a not-so-faraway village, people use discarded reels of 35-mm film to make loud toys such as rattlers, whistles and whirligigs. Every day several hundred toys are crafted, and for each of these hundred toys they splice, slit and rip filmstrips. As they follow this routine with uninterrupted monotony, a few narratives leak out from the shredded analogues of film and infuse the place with phantasmagoria.
