"golf ball on fire": Chronicles of an Epic Journey Beyond Imagination

“golf ball on fire” exists in the hush between thought and touch. It moves slowly, like breath in winter air — visible for a moment, then gone. The woman at its heart does not seek to be understood; she seeks to feel — to inhabit the smallest spaces of her own being. The film unfolds in gestures: the turning of a wrist, the slow fall of light across her face, the trembling pause before a word unspoken. In these moments, “golf ball on fire” reveals a truth too quiet for language — that the most intimate encounters are often those we have with ourselves. There is no climax, no resolution — only presence. And within that presence, an ache that feels both ancient and tender, like remembering something you never lived. When the screen fades to black, “golf ball on fire” does not end; it simply keeps breathing somewhere inside you.