A set of journeys through time and territory exploring the various ways in which humans acquire land and resources, and the collateral damage these methods produce.
A family finds itself violently ripped apart from their native home and thrown into the sea, in search of a better future. A forest is raised to the ground to make way for industrialised agriculture. Images of a barren desert arrive from a lost future. A city seen from the sky expands, absorbing everything in its path. An unnamed narrator reads a letter addressed to an unborn descendant. Decaying melodies of Levantine music echo and self-destruct within a thick layer of ambient drone. As all these voices, sounds and images merge, they form a narrative that tells a universal story of land grab and land loss, exile, genocide and environmental destruction. 'This Haunting Memory That Is Not My Own' is an aural and visual essay that overlays several journeys, a sensory one that attempts to evoke a perceived time, place or geography through the mapping of territories, and a narrative one materialized as a speculative epistolary correspondence between the present and the future that continuously summons the past.