caught in suspension between a flight so long it seemed to take me beyond time, the strange allure of a true world wonder both crystal clear and fantastic, and a pitch black night sky torn apart every now and then by silent lightning, a moment remote from all the craziness allows me to wing a few lines from yucatán.
my work for bold the magazine has immensely expanded as i am now in charge of their blog. this kicked open a number of doors (although more often than not they call them gates) and seems to have turned the globe into a playground. some waves that tingle this caribbean coast line already seem to carry faint scents from the maledives even though i somewhat doubt any tide could have brought them from the indian ocean, and the sounds of a festival in las vegas are in the air even though it only begins in late october.
Scenes reflect what has not yet happened, scenes anticipate what already has happened. Scenes that have not happened yet, have. ‘continuity’ is one of the myths of film; in film, time is round, like a reel.
it blows my mind how well these lines from steve erickson’s “zeroville”, which i just finished reading before leaving berlin a few days ago, seem to have been written just to be read by me one of these days, seem to be intended to alleviate my wide-eyed amazement. is all of this a motion picture?
after all, that festival in vegas is called life is beautiful. would you believe it?
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