The Inheritance of Living

A man lost in a well-worn rhythm. A girl crosses into the spirit realm. A city learns that touch, too, is inheritance.

The artwork and the film live off one another. Neither came first, and neither explains the other.

In the collection the crane and the wolf are held in a moment — a single breath of decay, kept long enough to look into. In the film, they travel through people in memory of the dead.

Nothing here is chosen. What is inherited arrives anyway — a house, a bell, a fever, a name — and asks only to be carried. Not a life handed down, but the living of it.