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Every time they had a moment to spare, they rode their bikes with the goal of exploring everything as far from their home as they could. Every time, just like today, they drove the same direction down the same street. Every time, just like now, they felt friction of the wheels against asphalt, while the scenery changed beside them: fences and the homes behind, a dull washed-out road sign, a maple tree followed by three bushes and then all the other roadside nature. R drove first in line, which left S with plenty of room to look around and enjoy the familiar sights without worrying too much about the road in front of him. Thin black poles, then greens ones, slightly fuller and finally old wooden planks, hiding an old barking dog. Then the tired weather worn sign that used to warn those, who listened, of ruts. This warning lived on in both S and R, who rode the ever deepening decompressions of the road. Each time the sign was left to watch their receding backs, a lush maple tree would come into view and S could feel a little tingle in his spine. The tree served as a memento, reminding of the first time, when they as kids first dared to step out of the bounds they knew as home. As S admired the setting, R pedaled, concentrated on the road in front of him. He couldn’t wait to enter where he had never been before and give in to desire to roam. And so, an unknown structure emerged. A tall metal fence appeared before his eyes. As wheels slid off the smooth asphalt onto bumpy dirt, R jumped up slightly in his seat. The road stopped here. A building site. R turned his head around. S looked the barrier up and down and brought concerned eyes to R’s. “This here is the farthest we’ve ever been.” Told R, pointing down at his feet, and started wobbling sections of the fence with the hope of widening the slim gap between them. With a great deal of struggle, the gap turned into a hole, just wide enough to fit through. R brushed the sweat off his brow, pushed the bikes through and hopped in. After regaining breath, he gripped the fence ends and spread them apart as far as he could, the strained look on his face beckoning S to slip in, while R still had some strength left. S crawled in warily, careful not to disturb R. R wiped off beads of sweat once again. They picked up the discarded bikes and went down the unfinished path. Nothing stood between them and the vast pit full of dirt, sand, metal pipes, shreds, scraps and all sorts of construction thingamajigs anymore. Climbing down was easy, reaching the bottom was fun. Taken over by the desire to sightsee, R gasped and laughed, swinging his head, gesturing at every sculpture that sand had formed unintentionally. S laughed along, but not without flinching first. In spite of that, felt gleeful. And so, they reached a tall sandy wall, that marked the end of the trench. It was too steep and too dense to climb out, so they decided to throw their bikes up first. As R struggled to get them up, S wandered around. He tilted his head back and watched the clear sky, while his face bathed in sunlight. Once the sun began to blind him, he dropped his head and shifted his attention to the pile of pipes just to his left. Two wooden rods sticking out from underneath all that metal. It was a ladder left behind by construction workers. S thanked the sun and dragged the finding to where R stood. They put the ladder up and easily got out. The drive resumed. They continued to ride the dusty gravel road alone, surrounded by green pastures with a lone tree growing here and there. This sort of sight went on for a few minutes until the gravel road turned into a soft, pine needle and dried-up twig covered path. The lime green of the pastures grew into the dark cool shade of elderly spruces and pines. They reached a forest. It only took a quick glance inside to see that nature here was left to self-govern. It was cramped, the trees grew tightly along each other fighting for much needed sunlight, for survival. The weakest ones were lying in the soil, dead and rotten, waiting patiently to disintegrate into the earth. S and R observed the forest in silence. They simultaneously decided to leave their bikes at the closest pine tree and stepped forward. It was lush and cool inside. Beams of light made their way in through the opening that could be taken for an entrance. They passed through the first few rows of trees but were halted to a stop here as they were unable to squeeze through the tightly interwoven vegetation. As S and R walked, the trail became a narrow footpath with more and more bumps beneath their feet. Bulging tree roots, pine needles, pinecones, branches, both live and broken, and fallen trees all consumed the path until there was nothing left. From here on, they had to trust their gut. They went side by side, hands in front to spread tree branches, that in return stroked their heads. They climbed bumps, humps and piles, hastily trying to help each other through the entwined greenery with the tree branches smacking them from time to time. They quickened their pace even more. Bumps turned into mounds and all the green around seemed to fade away. S and R ran, and the spruces battered them. Smooth needles quickly replaced by sharp barren twigs as they entered the land of trees that lost the fight for survival. S closed his eyes and all that was left was the loud cracking of breaking wood and the stinging of his scratched skin. He tore and tore, seeing nothing. Thinking nothing. He tore along until there came silence. Cautiously, he cracked open his eyes letting them adjust to the all-filling light. His vision cleared up bit by bit. S stood in a clearing. The pine tops looking down at him from up high parted and made way for the rays of light to fill the empty space. At his side there lied a worn, damp mattress. Next to it stood dozens of multicoloured glistening bottles. S stood here alone. Catching glimpses at the scene he let out a long, drawn out sound “OOO.”

R perked up. He held his teary left eye, hurt in the hectic sprint, and without opening the other went towards the voice. It guided him and R followed obediently, feeling the tree trunks that surrounded him with his hands. Whenever silence stood in between the yells, he stood in place as well, listening and waiting patiently for his guide to come back. He moved like this for a long time. Only when the voice came so close that it overtook all other senses and there was nothing to grab onto anymore, R felt that he could open his eyes. He had arrived. His face and body were covered in scratch marks, his hair full of sticks and woodchips. S curiously looked him up and down, gave a warm smile and eagerly pointed at the bottles. R examined the scene, grabbed the nearest one in hand and fell into the mattress. Then, he rolled over, brought the emerald bottleneck to his good eye and buried it into the sky. S in turn caressed all the bottles. They were glossy and pleasantly cooled the stinging scratch marks. It calmed his fingers, palms, tracing up his arms and all the way to his neck and cheeks, finally stopping in front of his eyes. The glass of every bottle warped the view underneath differently. S turned each of them in his hands and observed the shifting world. The glass revealed a new plane and S longed to hear it. He raised his arm, took a swing and hurled the bottled at a nearby stone. A sharp crash breached the silence that lied in the forest site. S turned back to R, eyes full of wonder, grabbed the bottle right out of R’s hand and shattered it too. R, enraptured by the outburst, got up and joined. They smashed and smashed the bottles, each time more rampant than the last, until nothing was left. Sparks of glass sprung in every direction, glimmering in the light as if rays of sunshine themselves had materialised. When silence came back from it’s hiding, the whole ground was covered in greenish brown shiny glass bits. Tiny clear specks rested on the grass like freshly fallen dew. Dust, still floating in the stillness, hung in the air like fog. “Morning.” They thought. S picked up a large chunk of glass and R followed. They studied the glass world their frenzy had created and marveled. Everything was changing. Forms bended and distorted, colours stirred and blended together. They peered at the dancing trees, the rippling flecks next to their feet and endlessly morphing silhouettes of each other. Fascinated, R didn’t feel the warm trickle running down his palm. He had sliced his hand. They threw the shards down. The end of play. S searched for a yarrow and wrapped it around his friend’s finger, once he found one buried in the grass. “A way back?” asked R. S nodded his head towards the lifeless woods, gesturing a path marked by branches broken just a while ago.

***

Roadside nature, first bush, second one, the third. The usual maple, where they had once agreed to go on. The great golden plains. The weather-worn road sign. S squeezed the brakes as his fingers grew numb, making R, who was right behind him, halt too. The plains? S turned around to look once more. The tall grass rolled as light summer breeze passed through. S and R stood there, facing the meadow, bikes now forgotten on the street, their hearts beating the same fast paced rhythm. This has never been here. With a warm gust of wind, the grass parted slightly, baring faint car made tracks. They stepped off the road and into the meadow, as if being pulled by an unknown external force. S and R were walking cautiously but knew deep inside that there is nothing to be afraid of. Both were looking around although it seemed that with every step of the way the yellowed grass grew taller, stopping just above their heads. Among the softly rustling stems peeked flowers blue and red, alongside various intricate herbs. Joy grew in their hearts. Everything around them was fresh and new, yet so delightfully familiar as if a world only residing in their memory had come into being. Everything around them transformed and every little detail was overwhelming, encouraging to leap up and absorb more and more. They were also changing. They grew and shrunk, expanded and shriveled, disintegrated and stuck back together. They went further and it seemed that the thin border separating outside form in was evaporating with warm steam. They rolled and frolicked like delirious dogs, getting lost and reuniting many times inside the unending meadow. They stomped the grass, leaving paths of their ecstatic craze to be seen from above. Having grown tired from the spree, they slowed down and strolled for some time, savouring the buzzing feeling. All was well. Here, they took their last step, stopping their vibrating silhouettes. An all encompassing vast emptiness stood before their eyes. The land stopped, enveloped by the brisk yet warm vacuum. They had reached the edge of the world. The clear blue sky continued endlessly and there was nowhere to go. The world ended here. S and R turned to face each other. S was looking at R and R was looking at S. They both smiled, turned around and started walking. They went home.

Exploratory Practice: Storyboard

Exploratory practice: Initial tests

Exploratory Practice: Daniel Saul editing workshop

Exploratory Practice: Brush tests

Exploratory Practice: Collaboration

Exploratory Practice: Statement of Intent

Exploratory practice: Story

Ivor’s: Final reel

Ivor’s: Animation test reel

Ivor’s: Final animation (main)