In Wash, a super8 camera is being soaped and cleaned under the tap. The film plays with alternating perspectives. Images filmed over my shoulder are spliced through images taken with the camera that is being washed and images from my body under the shower. At some point in the film, I open the battery and film compartments of the camera and proceed to pour water and soap through its inner workings. Here the trickery that is at play fully reveals itself. The camera that is washed is not the one that is doing the filming. This film explores relations between in- and outlooking from a camera, and the in- and outside of bodies, those of the cameras and of the filmmaker. Water has a strange relationship with photography. It is used in the chemical process of film development to dilute chemicals, control temperature and wash the film. At the same time, water needs to stay out of the body of the camera. In both cases, control is exercised on a material that is hard to control, on a liquid that prefers to spill, leak and spill. Wash is based on a dream in which I was washing my laptop. By cleaning an object that is so central in my daily life as a tool for work, memories, and entertainment I simultaneously destroyed it.