- Fountain of flowing minds.
My throat is filled with sands, And it washes like dew from honey, Crafted, Grafted. And it springs out like essence, Crested, Rested. And the water emerges from below, Quested, Untested. And the man rises from above, Selected, Perfected. Jump! So I did. And my throat is filled with sands.
The Body Beautiful
- Woman is beautiful.
Performative Documentary/Personal Film
- A millionth of serene tranquility.
I touched the light Slighted by the beam During the night I sat on the interval Looked upon Myself being looked upon There she was Lingering with the light Lined by my shadow There I was Touched.
- Polyphasic sleep in practice.
Ah! Ahh! Ahhrr! Ahh! Ahhhhhh! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! A h ! A h ! A h ! A h ! Aaaaa! Hhhhhh! Ahahahahah. A.........a........h - Sometimes effort is defined not by its length but impact.
- The now that which is always relevant.
Film Collage/Political Activism
Where is now? NOWhere to kNOW When the volcaNO Whirls.
Walerian Borowczyk, Chris Marker
- The camera that landed on moon.
Look at the moon It is no place to eat It is no place to meet Lift your feet And gently greet The shadow of our imagination The figure of our temptation When the deepest carries the reckless The reckless goes helpless Then, It is to eat the place It is to meet the place
Dream of the Wild Horses
(Le songe des chevaux sauvages)
Denys Colomb Daunant
- When fire and water thrive on each other!
Tunnels lights dim lights out lights off a series of galloping pounding jostling on the ground meadow track like never before running hitting stopping at the same time. Fire eating swallowing digesting a small piece seamless seedless speedless off the road daunting at an angle corner moment's notice whereabouts doomed to reveal reverse repeat. Too late the other end is all smoke.
The Ashlad and His Good Helpers
(Askeladden og de gode hjelperne)
- Masters of seasons.
The Battle of San Pietro
- Guerrilla on Guerrilla.
The Thin Red Line, by Terrence Malick
Dirt Facewash a day a too many Blood vessels' imagination Gives away whatever is left To ruin A peaceful morning When everyone else is climbing down the hill Dirtbag Asswash a day a too many It's the right time to get lost
A Girl's Own Story
- The look in a gal...
Sweetie, by Jane Campion
I was ready to buy some berries, And she stood there, Ready to buy some cherries. I was either in the wrong aisle, Or hiding behind my scaries, For no other place, Would it like to be carried. I looked around, As if I were in Buenos Aires, With her standing there, Ready to buy some berries.