"This is a film about the inside of trees." -Eric Baus, from Tuned Droves

Wheel

I encounter a tiger in the forest, and I immediately pounce, before it can notice. Landing on its course hair, I feel a few ribs snap like twigs under my feet. In blind panic, I begin scratching and biting the tiger for dear life. The tiger never moves. It just breathes heavily, and lets out an occasional longer breath, like a sigh. I kick, and grab its tail, and stomp, and scratch, and bite until I’m tearing pieces of flesh off of its heaving body. A bloody mess, I take a few steps back and look at what I’ve done. The tiger and I make eye contact for a moment, and all of a sudden I notice a deafening silence. The tiger isn’t breathing anymore. I’m not breathing anymore. We aren’t even in the forest anymore. We were in a large, empty, vacuous space, the two of us in complete darkness. I feel small and alone, and I curl up next to its broken body, like a mother I never knew.