Some Southern Waters

I have a recurring dream, indistinguishable and randomly scattered through my nights, in which I am trying to leave my house to meet someone, but things keep stopping me. I am set to leave, but then need to take care of a boiling pot of water. I am ready again, but I’ve forgotten toshut off a faucet. I am ready, but can’t manage to tie my shoes properly, constantly twisting knots. I am ready again, but a friend of mine stops me; they need my help in the backyard with God knows what. If I do finally manage to leave, I get lost driving. I miss a turn and must backtrack. I miss it again and must backtrack again. I make the turn, but the road is blocked. And so it goes, and so it goes. I never get to where I’m going. It is this recursive character that is at the heart of Some Southern Waters.

Some Southern Waters deals with an issue I have been fixated on -conveying the uncanny feeling of a dream: vitally significant and alluring, yet indefinite, amorphous, and often very humorous. I, as many before me, feel that cinema is the medium best equipped to translate dream states, or at least instill the feeling that one has dreamt. By focusing on a dream-like narrative, told through a character conflicted in his own feelings of ineptitude and opportunism, I hope to connect with an audience's own fascination with their dreams. I believe cinema, like music, has the power to throw a viewer into highly specific states of mind that they have not previously explored.
Much like a dream, I hope this film can elicit a variety of personal responses in each viewer, whether it be fascinated perplexion, wry laughter, cerebral contemplation, or joyous abandon.