This otherworldly soundscape draws me into an empty, wind-blown plain of a place where silent, chthonic creatures live. I move like a mollusc, leaving a glistening trail, naked in my periwinkle cave. Me the shadow, spreading across a periwinkle wall. The desire for light haunts me and I loathe the way it penetrates. This is footage from the womb.
From the left, the looming shadow of a bed leans. I put out my tentacles and feel along the seam where edges meet. I grow and reach into places of dreaming. I emerge from below, hands in my mat of hair and then ebb, gently wilting back into the place of my origin.
Jupiter is the largest planet in our solar system, orbited by 16 moons. Astrologically, it is said to govern systems of law, codes, philosophy and stories; how meaning is made. It represents a craving to expand beyond the familiar, to cast a net in foreign seas, to gather, sort and feed the village with the catch. I am Juno. I trace the edges of the maps and then move outside of the penciled lines, courting Jupiter: the grand expanse I long for