Sunday, August 10, 2014
A single pebble holds the memories of all the ancient rivers that flowed over it, ingraining their essence in its smooth roundness. It has witnessed so much! Seen seeds turning into forests, a clutch of eggs turning into pirouetting shoals, a million lunar-cycles, cloudy sunsets. It lay there warmed by dawns, cooled by stars for ages - an elemental, pristine being. ah! Why don’t you see! I picked up the pebble you left behind; something of you remained in it as your hand, like those primordial rivers, caressed its surface, transferring a bit of yours into it. The pebble was warm.
I try to create it; delving deep into nostalgia, conjuring it from memories, moments that made me want to die and relive it over and over again, an old sun-lit classroom, a hall filled with the twangs of a guitar, a teacher, a blue tie, a rain, a book, a lost pebble, a postcard, a touch.
Photo: Google Images
Read More: http://mikimbizii.blogspot.in/2013/06/and-through-yellow-eyes-ode-to-memory.html
Four haunting, profoundly peculiar and picaresque movies re-watched back-to-back. It was a life-altering pilgrimage into the alluring, langorous side of feminity consisting of dreamy nonchalance, amused curiosity, blissful madness, delicate lassitude and glorious indifference. Lucile Hadzihalilovic’s feature debut - Innocence, Lars von Trier's Melancholia, Sofia Coppola's Virgin Suicides and Peter Weir's Picnic at Hanging Rocks. All the principle characters are strange woman-like children and child-like women with an aura of nuanced unearthliness and gleeful remoteness about them. Phew!
Picture: Still from Picnic At Hanging Rock