The work of a sleepwalking artist offers a glimpse into the fertile slumbering brain

Lee Hadwin has been scribbling in his sleep since early childhood. By the time he was a teen, he was creating elaborate, accomplished drawings and paintings that he had no memory of making – a process that continues today. Even stranger perhaps is that, when he is awake, he has very little interest in or skill for art. Penny Lewis, professor of psychology at Cardiff University in Wales, researches differences between waking and sleeping brains and says that, while Hadwin’s particular nocturnal proclivities are quite unique, sleep for humans is hardly a passive activity. Among those with somnambulism – also known as sleepwalking disorder – sleep-eating is common, and even sleep-murder has been documented. In this short film from BBC Reel, Lewis looks to brain-scan research and our evolutionary history for clues to explain Hadwin’s unusually active slumbers.

A street-level view of homelessness from a woman living through it

Many portraits of homelessness still end up ‘othering’ people, despite their storytellers’ best intentions. The UK-based Italian filmmaker Giulia Gandini wanted to try something different, aiming to capture an account of homelessness without imposing her own biases. Lily Blackham had been living on London’s streets for 18 months after escaping an abusive relationship when Gandini gave her an iPhone to chronicle her experiences over three days and tell her own story. The resulting short film, Home Stream, is a touching first-person glimpse into the many practical and emotional complications of homelessness and rough sleeping – from feeling invisible to passersby to not having money for sanitary pads. In doing so, Gandini and Blackham build a deeply humanising portrait of a life on the margins, replete with heartache and struggle, but not without moments of joy.

Via Directors Notes

A curtain that twitches as people walk by creates a delightful paradox of privacy

In 2010, the German artist Niklas Roy embarked on a project to take back a small slice of privacy in an era and in a place – his Berlin workshop – where it can be quite hard to come by. The resulting installation, My Little Piece of Privacy, comprised a surveillance camera, ‘computer vision’ software and a small, motorised curtain, which followed pedestrians as they walked past his storefront. As you might imagine, the moving curtain had an inverse (and amusing) effect, causing passersby to spend far more time in front of his window than they would have otherwise. This short video, featuring scenes from the installation set to a retro arcade-inspired score, makes a highly entertaining spectacle out of Roy’s clever provocation of privacy.

Via Colossal

Climate change science is centuries, not decades old, and it was pioneered by a woman

The notion that human activities might be warming the planet started coming into focus in the 1960s and ’70s, before a scientific consensus emerged in the 1980s and ’90s. But the rough outlines of the science surrounding humanity’s greatest contemporary threat has a surprising, little-known history that dates back roughly two centuries. This brief animation from BBC Ideas traces our modern understanding of the greenhouse effect through the work of three pioneering scientists, beginning with the US scientist and women’s rights activist Eunice Foote, whose 1856 work on the heat-trapping effects of CO₂ was buried for decades before being rediscovered in 2010.

After 30 years of solitude, Peter forms an unlikely friendship with a fellow loner

‘I had left my flock, and Ben had left his.’

After taking a walk through a remote Welsh valley, Peter committed himself to a life there, and disconnected from the outside world. In doing so, he found a solitary inner peace – a peace he maintained for nearly three decades, until, one day, he stumbled upon a lamb that had been left for dead. Finding kinship with the fellow ‘dropout’, Peter took the abandoned creature home and named him Ben. The short Peter and Ben (2007) by the UK filmmaker Pinny Grylls captures the duo’s relationship three years after their chance meeting, as Peter attempts to return Ben to the wild. With a melancholic piano score and sweeping views of the Welsh countryside, her touching film lends a lyrical beauty to this tale of unlikely connection and camaraderie between outsiders.