It's physically demanding and sweaty. Grandma's hands are gnarled from years of pain and hard work. Hands knead the dough. She works with rolling-pins, brushes and older baking utensils. She deftly places the bread on a peel and sets it in the stone oven. Grandpa takes care of the wood-burning , watches over it, blows life into it, again and again. He moves the bread around on the hot hearth. They work noiselessly. Close to each other.

A girl travels around. And she is me. She sleeps around. Finally she finds two guys who are friends. Two cocks in her little feminist hands, so fucking luxurious. The film breaks conventions and norms and questions the patriarchal rules. The film deals with gender codes and their subversion. It tackles taboos about how to be more forward as a girl and what is generally accepted as ”allowed”. But above all it’s about honour among male friends.

Why can't I hear the sound of sewing machines anymore? A meeting with my family and the history of all their sewing machines.

Why can't I hear the sound of sewing machines anymore? A meeting with my family and the history of all their sewing machines.

A queer film in a world where normative relationships set the rules for who can become a parent and in what way. About the bodies that normalise us to gender when we want to reproduce. About the desire to gift that opportunity to someone else and the common desire and attempt to become pregnant together.

About the sensuality in Swedish folk dance and folk music. A film that blends dance, fiction and documentary material into a heated, rough and skin-like expression.

A queer film in a world where normative relationships set the rules for who can become a parent and in what way. About the bodies that normalise us to gender when we want to reproduce. About the desire to gift that opportunity to someone else and the common desire and attempt to become pregnant together.