Venice Beach, CA.

Autumn in Venice Beach, California. Every morning the sunrise is being shot—when the homeless people, who live on the beach, are waking up. Their routine is simple. After getting up, they have to tidy up their stuff. Within the multi-strata neighborhood, their voices express their views of the world: the neighborhood’s history, its actual real estate development with the rising of Snapchat, Donald Trump, the veterans, the Natives. During those fragile and ephemeral moments, Venice’s different social worlds touch each other. Such as Sisyphus pushing his rock, every morning is the same. The sun rises, the homeless wake up, look at the world, describe other ones, possible.