ROSY BEYELSCHMIDT
In the gaze of the tungsten eyes of a golden fly, the ravenous roses of geometry blossom · 2025


4K color video, 2-ch sound, 6:27 min [➚]

Writer · Camera · Sound : Rosy Beyelschmidt
Director · Writer · VFX · Editor : Dieter Beyelschmidt

In a world where light cuts like a sharp blade through the night, there lies a tiny mirror of conscience: a golden fly, whose eyes carry the sheen of tungsten. It does not fly - it hovers, a silent witness above the unfolding events, a minuscule orbit of observation that casts the stage of the world into a darker palette of hues. Its gleam is no firework, but a quiet admonition: that the pursuit of power and the will to read the hidden often continue to circle endlessly, even when the body has fallen silent.
     Within this quiet gaze lies a double question: Who controls the gaze, and who controls the consequences of what is seen? The fly symbolizes the peril of preemption: prophecy as an instrument of power, the future as a tangible object held in one’s hand - only to realize that hands themselves become instruments. The gaze this circling presence enables is blind to individual freedom, because it compresses freedom under the weight of expectations - expectations that demand fulfillment even before action is taken. The gaze becomes a chain of expectations, its links forged from shadow.
     The depiction of this scene builds a bridge between guilt and insight. Guilt is not merely the burden of deeds, but the burden of realization: to know that every decision leaves traces - traces that lead through darkness and, at the same time, dim the light. The fly, its wings shimmering like golden coins, reminds us that every choice has its price. But this price is not measured in material terms - rather, it lies in the question of who ultimately hears the voices whispered in the echo of actions: The voices of ghosts we refuse to see, of prophecies we cannot freely choose, of the shadow that follows us no matter where we go.
     In this image, the will to power finds a subtle yet inescapable logic. Whoever seeks to read the future seduces themselves with the promise of control. Yet control is an illusion, for every action shifts the scope of all others. The golden fly functions as a kind of cosmic measuring device: it does not only gauge probabilities but also amplifies the weight of each decision - so that even the smallest movement can unleash vast consequences. In this sense, power is not felt as visible dominion, but as invisible pressure that narrows the gaze and shifts the field of possibility.
     The veil of "shadow" appears as a companion to every insight. Shadow not as the absence of light, but as a counter-space - where possibilities gather before surfacing. The fly navigates this counter-space, and with each beat of its wings it reveals how traces are formed: in memories, in decisions, in the very limits of freedom. Freedom becomes a term not defined by the absence of coercion, but by the courage to meet silent responsibility: the kind of responsibility that arises when we turn our gaze not to what we dream of, but to what is actually happening.
     This scene brings us to a perspective on the nature of truth. Truth is rarely a clear beam; more often it is a flickering, polyphonic web of possibilities. The golden fly demands that we stop expecting truth as epiphany and begin to accept it as an ongoing struggle for meaning. It reminds us that every judgment is saturated with prior knowledge, assumptions, and a longing for order. And within this tension between clarity and silence lies the allure of narrative: the story does not end with a definitive message, but with the realization that questions matter more than final answers.