[Горячий грузинский эльф]

Think of two people, living together day after day, year after year, in
this small space, standing elbow to elbow cooking at the same small stove,
squeezing past each other on the narrow stairs, shaving in front of the same
small bathroom mirror, constantly jogging, jostling, bumping against each
other's bodies by mistake or on purpose, sensually, aggressively, awkwardly,
impatiently, in rage or in love--think what deep though invisible tracks they
must leave, everywhere, behind them! The doorway into the kitchen has
been built too narrow. Two people in a hurry, with plates of food in their
hands, are apt to keep colliding here. And it is here, nearly every morning,
that George, having reached the bottom of the stairs, has this sensation of
suddenly finding himself on an abrupt, brutally broken off, jagged edge--as
though the track had disappeared down a landslide. It is here that he stops
short and knows, with a sick newness, almost as though it were for the first
time: Jim is dead. Is dead.

«Мы часто становимся заложниками
повседневности, но, потеряв её в силу обстоятельств,
повседневность становится самой желанной фантазией»

@темы: (с), Фиолетовые мысли., Невыносимая легкость бытия.

Comments

[D.E.]

А таки фильм этот завораживает.)

[Горячий грузинский эльф]

Да, фильм сделан очень потрясающе. Одним словом дизайнер делал.)

[D.E.]

Да, точнее и не скажешь)