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A woman confronts the man who wronged her hoping for some explanation for the deceit in men's hearts.

A project I started to keep myself sane during the start of the pandemic. It was initially meant to be more of a straight video essay and ended up closer to something like the great George Kuchar's Weather Diaries. It's a record of what I saw when it seemed like our ability to see anything was being taken away by terrible misfortune, an event that claimed millions. I would sit in my apartment, paralyzed by dread, and hear about the rising death tide. It straps ten thousand pound weights to the simplest act. Millions dead, and you're stuck on your couch. What can we do with that information? How can we promise to make something of ourselves given a gift denied to so many. Xenolith Atlas is a bad dream, a collection of the things I saw and the yearning to see more, to not exist in the confines of my apartment, to just vanish into the images I longed to see.