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Accueil / Magazine / Actualité Quotidienne / Courts-métrages / Dream : un poème visuel signé Sofie Lee

 

Dream : un poème visuel signé Sofie Lee

Publiée le 25 mars 2019 par 3DVF (946 lectures)
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Dream

Sofie Lee dévoile Dream, un court-métrage dans lequel elle met en images son poème Lonely Wintry Moon. Elle s'y met en scène oubliant et laissant de côté son existence pour suivre un rêve invisible...

Dream from Sofie Lee on Vimeo.

Crédits et poème :

One day, I saw this dazzling darkness, and it devoured me. Then, I no longer existed.

We often tend to dream, expect, and imagine the things we wished we had. Dreaming is a catalyst for a better future. However, I see dreams in two different ways. One being that dreams give off a sense of motivation and the other that dreams create a sense of delusion within. As humans, our dreams block us from seeing the things that are right in front of us. Although dreams are meant to keep us alive, they also make us forget our existence and our purpose. In the end, our lack of awareness of our surroundings can drive us to forget who we really are.

The project, Dream, is a short film that is created based on a visual poem, “Lonely Wintry Moon,” which I wrote portraying myself losing my existence to follow this invisible dream.

Directed by Sofie Lee behance.net/sofielee

Design : Sofie Lee behance.net/sofielee
Animation Direction : Omid Seraj oseraj.com

Voice Over : Stella Stocker stellastockervoice.com

Music : Wesley Slover, Joe Basile sonosanctus.com / thechicken.net
Sound : Joe Basile thechicken.net
Mix : Trevor Richardson sonosanctus.com

Behind the Scenes : behance.net/gallery/66089533/Dream

Dream.

Life is like a warm breeze that carries the redolent of spring, the colors that transmute the sky from dusk till dawn. Like a little chaste sprout that just pushed out the ground dauntlessly. A small water drop that just landed on a wild flower to tell its story from a long itinerary

But I’m an indigent goldfish that is floundering helplessly in this tiny bowl enveloped by hollow plastic plants and just gazing at this beautiful world; a xanadu I can’t be a part of it

I am a puddle on the street that reflects the blue sky and makes graceful ebb and flow of waves coalesced with the spring breeze

but I’m merely a deserted puddle wandering aimlessly. Then a bleak, lonely wintry moon devoured my life. The life of warmth, beauty, love, and passion departed. Then, time stopped, everything lost its colors. It froze my heart and only the whiteness lingered in silence with me

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