SCFZ

I opened a refrigerator that didn't seem to be running. It was empty, except for the floorspace under the bottom shelf, where there were three big pieces of raw chicken sitting in an inch of dirty water.

i dreamed i was in jail for flipping off trump supporters fuck em. i have an iron front tattoo

dreamed i was going bald. what the hell!! very scary

A dream about losing your hair could have to do with fear of aging or death

there was some other complicated context that i don't quite remember, and i never got to see the entire movie in the dream, but last night i dreamt that max ophuls in the '30s made a movie called "the paw and the feather," where the feather was a feather in a woman's extravagant hat, and the paw from a small lap dog that moved between owners.

nrh wrote: ↑Thu Sep 05, 2024 4:41 pm there was some other complicated context that i don't quite remember, and i never got to see the entire movie in the dream, but last night i dreamt that max ophuls in the '30s made a movie called "the paw and the feather," where the feather was a feather in a woman's extravagant hat, and the paw from a small lap dog that moved between owners.

i want to watch this

Trump anxiety?

I was with a group of people in an SUV; I forget what the link between us was or what we were proposing to do, but it involved getting hold of (and later using) a gallon of nitroglycerin. Something went wrong and we had to bail from our ride; I was handling the nitro, but I somehow got all tremorous and didn't feel steady enough to handle it. Ended up spilling it all over the ground. We were anxious, expected repercussions, and a pedestrian stepped on it and set it off. Other people in the vicinity recognized that we were responsible for the explosion and started chasing us. We ran and scattered. One person was a very old man who could only hobble, and we recognized that he'd probably be taken. Our pursuers were singing a song that was akin to an anthem and also sounded concretely threatening. I darted into a Mexican mini-mall called La Gigantica, thinking they'd continue looking for me out in the street. Went past a beauty parlor and into a grocery space; I could still hear the singing behind me, uncomfortably close, when I woke up.

stay safe lencho

https://www.nybooks.com/articles/2024/1 ... die-smith/

i had a dream that i cut up my cat it was so scary that i forced myself to wake up (she's fine)

had a dream that i watched this movie written, directed, edited, and starring jerry. the movie was very academic, the sort you'd see made by a movie critic, like some director's director's movie type shit. it was very mid-twentieth century european, like akerman meets pialat meets resnais meets straub-huillet. a lot of it was oblique due to its elliptical structure, with the story coming through vaguely in fragments built mostly around visuals and only brief passages of dialogue. it starred jerry as a sort of former academic/intellectual. he's cold, distant, seemingly lost in his thoughts but with a very physically imposing presence. half the time, we see him pacing around his dark and nearly empty apartment - furnished with nothing but a lamp and a desktop computer that seems perpetually on, the glow of its monitor always eerily illuminated in the background. in these scenes, he's only partially dressed, shirtless with sweat pants and bare feet. he cuts an impressive figure like patrick swayze in road house or something; and as he paces around the apartment, it's as if he's angrily confronting the thoughts that he's so often lost in the rest of the film, kicking and punching at the air in fits like a boxer or mixed martial arts fighter. we don't know, but we can see how the isolation of his apartment allows him to deal with the things that he keeps bottled up in the outside world. and when he is outside, these scenes mostly take part at what appears to be the outdoor grounds of a museum, somewhere like the getty museum in la. here, jerry mostly wanders around aimlessly, stopping and pondering at certain points the sights and sounds around him. it is also here where another character is finally present, a woman, but who is she? a former colleague? a former lover? we don't know. it's not entirely spelled out. but you can tell there's a distance between them, a lingering rift that keeps them emotionally and socially apart, even though they are there together. they float around each other in this setting, always one of them in the background of the other, sometimes at a far remove and sometimes not very far apart at all, but always they are silent. they might stare at one another, but they do not speak. there are two other vignettes that also run through the film, one almost seemingly tangential and the other almost seemingly entirely unrelated. the tangential seems like a side story of jerry sitting in a bedroom next to a bed where an old lady seems to be slowly dying. the bedroom is sparse, like jerry's apartment; again, a lamp is basically the only decoration. nothing is ever said between jerry and the old woman. she must be getting close to passing on, and doesn't have the time or wherewithal to speak. the seemingly unrelated storyline has to do with what appears to be a fourteen year old girl. we see her alone, also in a bedroom. she sits on a bed, again a lamp next to her. she does vaguely teenage things, reads silly magazines, listens to music, rolls around playfully on her blanket and pillows. we don't know the connection here. who is this girl? at one point, there is a scene towards the end of the film where jerry is talking to an older man. a friend? a colleague, perhaps? again, we don't know. but at last there is some dialogue. most, if not all of the film up to this point has been conveyed through silences. but in this scene jerry and the older man have a discussion. the older man seems to be trying to comfort jerry, telling jerry how sorry he is for what has happened, and trying to convince him not to give up everything he's worked towards. jerry won't have it. he can't be in this place any longer. he says he's leaving. he's going south, to argentina maybe. then the film comes to it's final scene. it's ethereal almost. is this a dream sequence? we seem to be at the museum again, but at dusk. all the previous scenes here were brightly lit, with the sun shining mid day in the outdoor gardens where jerry and the mysterious woman wandered about. but now that light is mostly gone. and now we're overlooking the gardens from somewhere up high. a balcony maybe? a voiceover appears from nowhere. the voiceover sounds almost academic. we can't tell exactly who's voice it is. it sounds vaguely like jerry, but older, as if he's speaking from the future, as an old man. or perhaps it's the older gentlemen who jerry was speaking with earlier? it's not quite clear. the voiceover speaks about some of the vagaries in the story. then into the frame a young girl walks out onto the balcony. she looks familiar, like the fourteen year old from earlier, but younger. she looks over the balcony at the dim museum grounds below. it looks like she's climbing up on the railing of the balcony, and as she does the camera passes her, the girl and the balcony disappear from view, and all we're left with are the grounds. the voiceover explains that jerry's character's daughter died when she was nine years old. was the fourteen year old girl that we saw a manifestation of what jerry imagined his daughter would be had she lived? was the woman at the grounds with jerry earlier the mother of his child? who was the old dying woman who jerry sat silently with? his own mother? another symbol of confronting death? and then it ended. not much was clear, but it was all so sad. the movie had an average rating of 3.2 on boxd. a lot of people thought it was pretentious, but a lot of people are idiots. i thought it was amazing. good job, jerry!

wild. he did move to LA and i believe he got married. his daughter would be over 18 now

i still remember when he told me the good guys would win

i'm going to venture a guess - he's talking to dan sallitt - who directed a film called fourteen

i dreamt tonight of being in a grocery store.
among all those usual colorful items, there were 3 white plastic boxes on a shelf that lacked any packaging.
i got curious so i looked at the label below (with a price) that identifies the goods.
and it said, “Slow Cinema Starter Pack”.
i was confused.
are there inside some eatables one can nibble on (to have some action) while watching a 6-7 hours long actionless movie?
or are there inside eatables that can feed a film crew that is shooting its very first slow cinema movie?
or is there something completely different?
i tried to open one of the plastic boxes discreetly to see what was inside but while doing so i woke up (before i could identify the content).

i was mildly disappointed i didn't figure out what “Slow Cinema Starter Pack” contains.
but i was able to trace the origin of this dream.
a few days ago, i randomly grabbed a master’s thesis called “At Her Own Pace — an Analysis of Slowness in Selected Films by Kelly Reichardt”.
i follow on social media a FAMU account and a PDF of this thesis (written by a student of the film editing department) was shared there because it received some academic recognition (and i thought, “grab it, you might read it sometime in the future”).
it was still too early to get up.
so, i was trying to imprint this dream into my brain to be able to recall it after the next (real) awakening (and share it in this thread), and while doing so i fell asleep again.

then, i was dreaming i was going to make a post in this thread but i can’t read properly the title of the aforementioned thesis.
as opposed to reality (a PDF), i had the thesis on sheets of paper that were worn out.
especially the first page (with the title) was significantly damaged (because of the frequent use) and thus it seemed i had to make a little restoration to be able to quote the title faultlessly.
i grabbed the transparent adhesive tape and wanted to glue it from below the torn page and then spread all the bent corners and read the title “At Her Own Pace — an Analysis of Slowness in Selected Films by Kelly Reichardt” in full without mistakes.
but by mistake, i glued the tape from above and thus instead of making a solid base for the page and unfolding it, i actually fixed all the bendings and made the restoration impossible.
i tried to tear the tape from the paper but it was only increasing the damage.
in complete despair that i won’t be able to trace the full title and thus i won’t be able to make this post, i woke up.

fortunately enough, i imprinted the first (“Slow Cinema Starter Pack”) dream in my brain well enough to be able to recall it, and, fortunately enough, i have the thesis on PDF (not on paper) so i can share this complex dream without distortions/misquotes.
btw., even the second part is somehow rooted in reality because a few days ago i was messing up with transparent adhesive tape.
i wanted to transfer a little part of the text somewhere else.
but instead of gluing a tape on top of the fragment and then gluing the whole thing on the desired place i glued the tape below which was pointless.
so, i carefully tore the tape off (from below) and glued it from above, and successfully made the transfer (there was no damage).

now, everything seems to be solved and explained...
BUT, there is one more thing!
a few days ago i also bought (not forged!) a cinema ticket for a screening that is taking place this evening.
in the local Kino Světozor, there will be a presentation of the Czech translation of a book by Bernd Herzogenrath...
→ https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/2 ... rzogenrath
... and because he wrote about the materiality of the media...
→ https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/236 ... dia-matter
... and about Bill Morrison...
→ https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/345 ... l-morrison
... part of the presentation will be a screening of “Decasia”.
i am unfamiliar with the author but i thought seeing ”Decasia” on the big screen might be cool, so i bought the ticket.
thus, i woke up this morning highly distressed from a fucked up restoration (of a thesis’ front page) and i will end this day cherishing all kinds of damaged film stocks on the big screen.

BUT, this is still not the end of the story!
i usually don’t dream about films.
so, while contemplating what else might have triggered all this dreaming, i discovered one more possible culprit of all this mess (namely Luis Buñuel!).
yesterday evening, i came home very tired from work but i still attempted to watch (for CoMo) “Mexican Bus Ride” AKA “Ascent to Heaven”.
i struggled a lot, was falling asleep, had to rewind several times, etc., etc., and made it only till half of the movie (i will watch the second half after finishing this endless post).
so, considering the way i went to bed yesterday, i think the full genealogy of this complex amalgam of reverie is “Kelly Reichardt — Bill Morrison — Luis Buñuel”.

i'm sorry we disrupted jiri's fabulous dream of cinema

I was reading a comic book about Binky, Pinzi and Squoinksy, three beach-towels that came to life at night and had adventures "exploring the human condition."

I had something that allegedly was several strands of the rope that Judas Iscariot hanged himself with, mounted in a locket. Someone was scolding me for wearing such a thing.

ooh, true Xmas spirit!

strange dreams in Italy-- but I don't remember them

https://www.kinometer.com/?id=96053