Like watching a memory through a wine bottle. Us lost souls fly through tunnels, inhale our feelings, and rest jaded even when the bullets fly by. It’s a constant dare for impact. As the world distorts, we gaze off and wonder if there’s anything out there that sticks – if sparks ever light lasting fires, if close calls ever collide and bloom.
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Belladonna of Sadness 1973
This bleeds expression in the lushest and most inventive way – a liquid garden of earthly delights, equally an abstraction of pain and trauma as it is a generative and fluid reclamation of sexuality. Cavernous and all-consuming ink wash the picture with darkness. Sad eyes and gangly limbs despair in hopelessness behind red rips of violence. Yet those are the very eyes that oversee the universe; the very limbs that bear a magical and undeniable power.
Just as we drown…
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The Batman 2022
This is a film that flirts with intrigue the way I flirt with everyone at Trader Joe’s
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After Yang 2021
A quiet spaceflight through the cosmos of memory, attachment, and grief. Aren’t we all just second, third, fourth hand entities programmed to accept the present, without instruction on how to house the infinite past.
