The Mannequin Nightmare

I fell asleep for a few years and when I had woken up it was to this strange land where happiness and perfection had consumed all. I began seeing the world through flawed eyes. My vision had been tampered with and my perception had deceived me. Everything I had seen wasn’t real. It was just a mirage of everything I wasn’t and could never be. Walking past the mobile mannequins made me afraid of my own reflection. To them, reflection was perfection.

I tried to hide my face, especially my eyes. The hood on my jacket could cover enough of my skin for it to go unnoticed. I was fair. I was ancient and I was cold. I certainly wasn’t this new brand. Petite noses, bright eyes, the perfect shine, and who could eat with a mouth like that? Not them. Their bodies were too perfect to be tampered with. Consumption would 
only result in damage. The beings that walked around me had no demons, no scars, and no marks of any kind. Were they ugly? Not even close. They smiled constantly. They were clearly in their prime. I was distinguished. I had demons. I had scars and certainly a kind of ugliness that was visible to all of them. They wouldn’t look at me. It was as if someone had trained them not to. Why did I have to wake up to this world? I was chosen to be the only different human among billions, but I couldn’t figure out why. I didn’t look, feel, or act like my neighbors yet they never seemed to notice. I never knew mannequins could walk, especially on my street. How long was I sleeping?

It was all in my head. 

The Reason for "Static"

I am known to run with my emotions. I take what I feel, study it, become absorbed by it, and then create an image to duplicate that feeling. I believe that in creating this film I was not only inspired by a journal entry I came across but by something that I was currently feeling. It's very difficult for me as a mother to remain consistent in my parenting. One moment i'm lenient and the next stricter than ever. I'm constantly feeling like a different person trapped inside of one body. Growing up I was completely independent. I was basically on my own at 13 with no responsibilities other than my own life. Then 7 years later this child appears giving me this incredibly enormous responsibility. Sometimes I become confused by it. At times I want to run from it, run from him but I can't. I'm completely bound to the floor. I'm glued to it by his love, want, and need for me and by my love, want, and need for him. So with that I am split.