When I made "Sermon to the Fish", I wanted to contemplate grief as a spiritual and physical landscape. The film follows a father wandering through rural Azerbaijan after the death of his son, suspended between life and memory. I chose long, meditative takes and sparse dialogue to allow silence, wind, and terrain to speak. Nature becomes a witness to mourning—vast, indifferent, yet strangely consoling. The film ultimately suggests that sorrow transforms perception, dissolving the boundaries between the living and the dead. Through contemplation and stillness, I sought to create a space where loss is not explained, but quietly inhabited.