A child is born, as mist shrouds a cliff dwelling enclave...a tribe of sad but noble people pray that this might be the one, the deliverer... "We all are born, and live, and die in eight days"...maybe your days are ten or twelve years long is all. Nonetheless just blow a few of them off, turn away from the light and see where it gets you...shorter of breath and one day closer to death. The journey here depicted, starting in solemn tones of drab and earth, funneling through Escher and Magritte-inspired mazes of harrowing scale and intensity, is the journey I am on right now, and yes, my wandering movie loving friend it is your little trip as well. You thought you were just doing a tad of light surfing and then the biggest wave raced you toward an early grave. All graves are early. Life is damn short. We only live eight days, remember? Twenty thousand? Hah! That shadow creeping on the wall there, ace, that ticking sound, that night you drank a wee dram too much and the pounding, the clock, the wheel, the big flippin' ball comin' down the chute...well, I digress. Or do I? 8. Thats it. Then its over. Turn it on its side, its a google, it goes on forever! Laugh! Cry. Don't matter, mortal kid. Take it or leave it, number's up its up, all over but the shoutin'...Sinking in sand, fight yer demon self, earthquake, tidal wave, far away across the field the tolling of the iron bell...how bored are you? Not much I trust. See QUEST. Ray knew and tried to tell you.Wished an' hoped he was yer Ray of Light. Which day will be the finest? Maybe today is the best yer gonna see. Have heart, and Carpe Diem, little trout. Catch you on the other side of the gate. I'd love to be involved in making such a lovely film as this one. Only a few days left...I definitely have to start on it this week. One of my favorite films of all TIME.
Robin
Robin