Moonsook, 45, begins each day buried under piles of laundry and endless housework. A decade ago, she dreamed of becoming a film director, but her art faded as her reality quietly took hold. She chose motherhood with conviction, fully expecting her intense attachment parenting to last only three months. It never seemed to end. One day, an old piano from her parents' house arrives and is placed squarely in the middle of her living room. Her daughter's unexpected gift stirs Moonsook's long-forgotten dream, and the quiet afternoons slowly begin to fill with warm music.

I labeled this film as “fiction,” but even I hesitate. This work is a collection of small yet meaningful fragments of my life. Everyone carries their own shining frames and stories on their phones. Career breaks are painful for women, and for women in the arts, they can be brutal. I still don’t know how to break through that gap. All I could manage was to quietly hum a line of music into my daily routine. Even so, in this age of living to 100, my future still feels uncertain and a little frightening.

World Premiere