Blue, Woman, Dress is an essay film that contemplates disaster without showing images of it. The narrator's childhood memories are scattered with fragments of the crash of an airplane carrying relatives. Along with the trauma of the disaster, her memory is haunted by the image of a woman's dress fluttering in the wind as she is transported on a wire, which was distributed indiscriminately as the accident was reported. As the narrator recalls the memory, she heads toward the site of the day's events, her steps hesitant and often hovering in place. But it's not the destination that matters, it's the journey itself, and the film invites us to reframe the question: not "What do you remember," but "How will you remember it?”