Tag: invocation

The video for Invocation was born from an intuition by Boxedge: to portray the solitude of the human being in front of a world of nature that no longer includes them.
An absent presence. An echo.

I gave visual shape to this idea by building a closed, minimal space, dominated by three large screens.
I imagined a scene where nature would flow freely in the background, while Lunaria Payne stood at the center — suspended, enigmatic, like a shadow still holding on.

It all begins with an old television.
On its screen, a small ladybug: fragile, stubborn tries to cling to a twig.
Then, an hourglass appears.
The sand flows slowly, inexorably. 
Time passes — and does not stop.

Then, the small ladybug: fragile, stubborn.
It keep climbing the twig to a twig, pushed by the wind.
A swing moves on its own.
No one touches it, yet it keeps swaying.

And in that silence, Lunaria Payne appears.

She stands at the center of the frame — still, yet alive.
Wearing a dark coat, black gloves, a turtleneck, and elegant boots.
Her figure blends into the background: earthy tones — brown, sand, shadow — become part of her.
Her hair is neatly styled, preserving an inner composure.

Her movements are slow, deliberate, never random.
She does not dance — she breathes.
She tilts her head, raises her hands with grace.
Each gesture is a silent question. Each glance, a quiet waiting.

Behind her, images of untamed nature unfold: rain, wind, ice, torrents.
Nature left to itself — in its rage and in its grandeur.
With no human presence, it reveals its true face: wild, indifferent, sublime.

It is precisely the sublime — in the deepest sense — that emerges in this work.
A beauty that overwhelms us, that leaves us speechless.
The raw power of nature, which persists and transforms even without mankind.
And the human — fragile — can only watch, wonder, reflect on their own pain, on their own passage.
And she, Nature, goes on. Indifferent, but real.

For me, creating this video was a way to pause and reflect on that.
Perhaps I wasn’t looking for answers — but for a form of presence.
Fragile and persistent, like the ladybug climbing a blade of grass.