Dust (2023)

Dismantling the home of some who is no longer here is an act of love, of memory, of mourning. July passed away recently; the camera moves around her apartment and is placed on a series of objects that act as keys to open the door to her intimacy. The voices of those who have loved her guide us while they try to prolong the farewell. In the memories they evoke, to some people July is still Julio, and those names and pronouns that blend reveal the difficulties of embracing one’s identity as a trans woman. During the journey, July’s figure is slowly brought to life, as in an invocation, called on through words, but mainly through her spaces, her things, her photographs, her wigs, her clothes, her favorite music. And a biography is weaved together, one which, like that mirror that still hangs on her wall, reflects the history of an entire community.