arshia azmat

Explaining my depression to my mother


During a 6-week internship in the Animation option of La Cambre, I had the occasion to experiment with sand stop motion. It’s a medium that I found very well suited to illustrate a poem by Sabrina Benhaim called “Explaining my depression to my mother : a conversation”. Her broken voice tells her story while shapes come to life in the sand, trying to put into pictures her emotion and her distress

You see, Mom, each night Insomnia sweeps me up in his arms, dips me in the kitchen in the small glow of the stove-light
Insomnia has this romantic way of making the moon feel like perfect company
Mom says, “Try counting sheep”
But my mind can only count reasons to stay awake
So I go for walks, but my stuttering kneecaps clank like silver spoons held in strong arms with loose wrists
They ring in my ears like clumsy church bells, reminding me I am sleepwalking on an ocean of happiness that I cannot baptize myself in