Through the wound, light enters us. The collection is a reflection of a person's story. A woman sits at a table, fruits spread out in front of her - they are overflowing with juice. She is saying goodbye to her experience...she is living the loss. Juice squirts from the overripe fruit - the room is filled with the voices of the past - the body is filled with tears. Nature stands still in anticipation. The woman's gaze stops.
Trilogy. Each episode tells a story of loss - the experience of a particular woman, but at the same time, together the episodes tell a single story of death and rebirth. The work was inspired by Joan Didion's book Blue Nights. There is a period of blue nights in New York City, a time of changing seasons, a time of twilight. This period in a woman's life is the focus of the film. A quiet time of living loss - a time when the lived experience leaves the body and a new life is born - a premonition of renewal.
Trilogy. Each episode tells a story of loss - the experience of a particular woman, but at the same time, together the episodes tell a single story of death and rebirth. The work was inspired by Joan Didion's book Blue Nights. There is a period of blue nights in New York City, a time of changing seasons, a time of twilight. This period in a woman's life is the focus of the film. A quiet time of living loss - a time when the lived experience leaves the body and a new life is born - a premonition of renewal.
Voice-over monologue: «That is the eastering earth. The thin lips seem as if never again to part. Peeping from their join a suspicion of pulp. Unlikely site of olden kisses given and received. Or given only. Ir received only. Impressive above all the corners imperceptibly upcurved. A smile? Is it possible? Ghost of ancient smile smiled finally once and for all. Such ill half seen the mouth in the light of the last rays. Suddenly they leave it. Rather it leaves them. Off again to the dark. There to smile on. If smile is what it is»
Voice-over monologue: «That is the eastering earth. The thin lips seem as if never again to part. Peeping from their join a suspicion of pulp. Unlikely site of olden kisses given and received. Or given only. Ir received only. Impressive above all the corners imperceptibly upcurved. A smile? Is it possible? Ghost of ancient smile smiled finally once and for all. Such ill half seen the mouth in the light of the last rays. Suddenly they leave it. Rather it leaves them. Off again to the dark. There to smile on. If smile is what it is»
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...True too that the eyes then agaze for the viewless planet are now closed. On other viewlessness. Of which more if ever anon. There the explanation at last. This same smile established with eyes open is with them closed no longer the same. Though between the inspections the mouth unchanged. Utterly. Good. But in what way no longer the same? What there now that was not there? What there no more that was? Enough. Away».
«Ill seen ll said». Samuel Beckett.
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The woman runs her fingers over her lips - she is going to say something, but she does not dare bite her lip, strokes the prepared blank sheets of paper with her palm. Her naked back, like a rock - cave paintings.
Silence in the room.
Silence in the room.
Universal stone. Day no sooner risen fallen. Scrapped all the ill seen ill said. The eye has changed. And its drivelling scribe. Absence has changed them. Not enough. Time to go again. Where still more to change. Whence back too soon. Changed but not enough»
«Ill seen ll said». Samuel Beckett.
