What begins as a grueling repetition, a drone trapped in the rigidity of domesticity and habit is quickly broken loose by the liberation from formula. A neat little piece, one I might recall next time the vibes turn psychedelic and I want to lure my friends from more obvious youtube fare.
I can't decide if this reminds me more of a dance or more of the frustration of trying to get things done with a physical disability. I'd like to see it (of course through my very particular lens) as a reflection on the way physical disability can affect the perception (or even "consumption"?) of time.