Inspired by Kiefer and Ryder, dedicated to Stan Brakhage.

Imagining one of those rusted medieval film cans having survived centuries, a long lost Biograph/Star, a Griffith/Méliès co-production, a two-reeler left to us from, say, the Bronze Age, a time when images were smelted and boiled rather than merely taken, when they poured
down like silver, not be to fixed and washed, mind you, but free to reform and coagulate into unstable, temporary molds, mere holding patterns of faces, places, and things, shape-shifting according to whim, need, the uncanny or the inevitable... Walking Distance is a
simple Golden Book tale of horizontals and verticals, a cinema of ether and ore...

"Mr. Solomon's supremely lyrical PSALM imagines a movie extracted from a rusted medieval film can left over from the Bronze Age. What unfolds on the screen suggests an ancient abstract painting encrusted with rust and sand behind which human faces half-form and disappear,
suggesting eons of time and civilizations rising and falling. As the film's hues metamorphose in tandem with a shifting abstract soundtrack, PSALM evokes not only rust and sand but fire, wind and oceans as well, a never-ending cycle of creation and destruction."
- Stephen Holden, The New York Times

Juror's Award (First Prize) Black Maria Film Festival