Photographer Steven Sebring spent eleven years following Patti Smith with a camera, and the result plays less like a biography than a scrapbook assembled from the inside. Black-and-white footage moves between concert stages, her Michigan home, and quiet moments of her writing and reading aloud, while she talks about Robert Mapplethorpe, her late husband Fred "Sonic" Smith, and the CBGB scene that made her a fixture of New York punk. Her children, Jesse and Jackson, appear alongside archival snapshots and home movies that trace her path from Chicago-born outsider to poet and performer. Sebring lets Smith narrate her own life rather than imposing a chronological frame, so the film drifts between decades the way memory does, landing on a protest, a graveside visit, or a rehearsal without warning. Musicians and friends turn up in passing rather than as talking heads. What holds it together is Smith herself, unguarded on camera in a way concert footage rarely allows, still working, still restless, well into her career.