Hello beautiful Roxana, ah this is magnificent it to me is so zen because we are arriving at the breath of nature, the falling petals the simplest yet the most complex beauty of the machinery of the universe each petal contain a consequential constellationand when you drink from the bowl my dream is that you are drinking in communion with the universe in a sacrosanct act of being transfixed by the revolving stars of your being.thanks for another beautiful masterpeice. Same me you know despite the google signature there's a spiritual essence there that signs the comment box, I cant believe I said that Haha!See how much you influence me I havent even left the bridge yet and Ive changed.sending you falling petal kisseslove and lightMadeleine
Silence...Je reste sans mot...Repos paisible, voyage immobile au fond de soi-même.Et le Japon, toujours, toujours présent.Bises chère Roxana
Only silence can describe how beautiful this is. Transient silence, yet perpetual. Thank you.
Roxana, this in combination with 'seeing' is one of the most astonishing things i have ever seen, there is a synesthetic element which i love but more than that it is just beauty. It is also personal as perhaps is all art. i would like to post a link to both on my facebook wall, though i have to ask your permission, i feel, and about such matters as attribution and copyright. Could you please let me know if it would be okay to do this? thanks, M.
Michael T., i am so overwhelmed by your kind and warm words, i can only thank you, humbly... of course you can post a link wherever you want, i make these little films, as the photos as well, only for me (and to share them with you all here on this Bridge), i am not a professional artist so i don't care much about attribution and such, if people mention my name as the author then i am happy when they freely share my work (a link to the Bridge is nice, in any case).again, i am so touched by your words, a thousand bows, gratefully...
Quite haunting. I suppose one can project many meanings into these moments shown. I can only speak of those I've have known. And, these were the first words I thought:I was but a child,I guess,so what did I knowof palenessand such?Still,my heartcould seethe strange waxof his face,his hairclearly dressedby a stranger's comb.Walking homein a darknessblackerthan black,clingingto my mother's skirt,I thoughtof all the flowersand how they lied on that dayhe died.
Stangly, wonderfully and simply there beautiful.
Oddly enough, with all that is going on here, I found myself staring (on 2 separate visits) on the part in your hair. It reminds me of a little flame like from an illuminating candle or a magic lamp. Your piece transcends time and seems a "prayer" of sorts. You're awesome.
such a joy to discover these videos!The video-medium suits your poetics particularly well: the immediate sensuality of the ephemeral (and thanks to your unfailing aesthetic sensitivity you manage to reconcile conceptual questioning with deeply sensuous poetry - i really think your art will go far)
I wish death's hands weren't so scary at the end...yikes! Er..it was death, wasn't it? :-)Take care,b.
aber nein... ich habe nicht den Tod gesehen, sondern die Stille, das Ein- und Zerfliessen in die Sphäre der Unendlichkeit. Friede mit der Welt, Friede mit der Gegenwart und dem Wandel der Zeit. Den Moment hinnehmen und vertrauen... Vertrauen in das bewusste Wahrnehmen und den Flug hin zum überweltlichen und besseren Sein. Vertrauen in den Weg hin zum unendlichen ungestörten, unzerstörten Sein...! Ein reiner schöner Gedanke..!Auf Wiedersehen, liebste Prinzessin!Renée
questiondeath walked the road inside hercherry petals fluttering all abouton the darkness in his breathshe kept asking himwhat does it meanthis world where petalsare in the hair like snowwhat is it to have a shapewhen these petals are my pulse on the windbut death had strayed too deepto remember this worldor the teahouse of their last words togethershe kept asking the cool silencewhen she became an empty bowlslowly filled with drifting petalsshe sighed and closed her eyes
The dream begins as does a seed coming into contact with water. Music, for its part, begins from silence. Death, that black veil, begins from near death. How many times must the veil touch the puerile skin of your hand or shadow the milky softness of your face before you succumb, again?
there's an acceptance, in the petals and the skin and the music - a fundamental non-struggling with what is. deeply beautiful.
wonderful, and cathartic to watch. I love this series.
dear Madeleine, ever-changing yet always leaving sensitive and gracious comments ('ever-changing' is just a playful innuendo to your new username, mirae, which is also very lovely :-), thank you for your gaze and words, i cannot but agree with everything you said here...love and light from this side of the Bridge too!anon, really?K'line, je sais que tu partages cet amour et cette emotion japonaise avec moi... je parle bas, meme en chuchotant, pour ne pas deranger ton silence :-)
Dan, i have no words to tell how touched i am by your poem, how it tears through me. though it brings a strange peace too - despite the clinging, that desperate gesture, the saving thought of flowers is the one which, perhaps, brings this breath of calm into my heart. i don't know... i am silent, and so grateful you have shared this with me, with us here. and if my little film really inspired you to write this, then i am, again, moved beyond words...
Jayne, thank you so much for watching and for your warm words of appreciation...Stickup, yes, i intended it to be a kind of prayer, the japanese poem i used is a death poem, written by a samurai before dying, if i remember correctly (or perhaps he committed seppuku, i must check). oh, and yes, the parting in my hair :-) someone told me once that it made me look like Da Vinci's Lady with an Ermine (i sometimes have my hair bound like this, on the back of my head).
ffflaneur, i don't know how to thank you for these words... video is new to me, still experimenting a lot, yet, strangely enough (for someone who opposed it first), i have come to love to work with it. i have more film-projects in the making :-)billo, no, not death's hands, try again! :-PRenée, meine Liebste, wenn du das gesehen hast, dann kann ich mich nur freuen, denn das waren auch meine Gedanken dahinter - nur du hast sie viel besser ausgedrueckt, als ich es je in Worten schaffen koennte. deshalb kann ich jetzt nur schweigen und dich lieb umarmen, und dir zulaecheln, Sanfte :-)
Mariana, aaah you watched it and liked it!!! thank you so much, thank you...
James, i cannot talk about this poem. i keep it with me, hidden, in that deep place, so deep, that only death can walk inside -
Prospero, as long as there is music, beginning from silence, going beyond silence, into the other world of dreams...Manu, you have no idea how happy your words have made me - because, i think, i don't have this deep and wise acceptance, on the contrary, and making this film was a way to conjure that, to walk the path towards it - that is why, also, this film is so special to me.Marion, so happy to hear that! :-)
Glorious, Roxana! I absolutely love this stunning feast. I really do think that video is a major medium for you. Your videos are, without any doubt, the most original of any I have ever seen.
of course you were going to get me with that shakuhachi! i liked the stillness, the snow effect might not have worked yet so did. but the bowl was the thing. and i especially liked that nosferatu- like thing with the hands.very nice!