Dust Kid by Yumi Jung

Traces are everywhere, if you look for them, and leaving traces is inevitable. In Jung Yumi’s animated fairytale Dust Kid, the traces are dirt, dust and disorder, small memories of a lonely life in the anonymous apartment of a young woman. She wakes up in the middle of a rainy night and starts to clean, carefully polishing, arranging. But in every dusty corner, she finds a tiny replica of herself, looking for rest, or maybe company. She tries to crush the little creature, flush her down the toilet, drown her in a teacup. But she keeps coming back.

Yumi’s animation technique is composed of minimalistic pencil drawings, and every stroke is a work of art. She skips dialogue and the dramatic free ride of enhancing music to instead focus on sound as a narrative. The buzzing of the fridge, the scratching of slippers against the floor, the sudden shock of a water squirt in the sink - these are all sounds you mostly don’t register, unless you are padding around alone at night, when everyone else is asleep.

The perfect simplicity of Dust Kid is what makes it extraordinary. Instead of giving answers, Jung Yumi opens up for reflections, gently leading you to the traces you have left behind, the thoughts you carry, padding around awake at night.

Moa Geistrand