The Salesman: [voiceover] She shivers in the wind like the last leaf on a dying tree. I let her hear my footsteps, she only goes stiff for a moment.
The Salesman: Care for a smoke?"
The Customer: Sure, I'll take one. Are you as bored by that crowd as I am?
The Salesman: I didn't come here for the party, I came here for you. I've watched you for days, you're everything a man could ever want. It's not just your face, your figure, your voice. It's your eyes, all the things I see in your eyes.
The Customer: What is it you see in my eyes?
The Salesman: I see a crazy calm. You're sick of running, you're ready to face what you have to face but you don't want to face it alone.
The Customer: No, I don't want to face it alone.
The Salesman: [voiceover] The wind rises electric. She's soft and warm and almost weightless. Her perfume with sweet promise that brings tears to my eyes. I tell her that everything will be alright. That I'll save her from whatever she's scared of and take her far far away. I tell her I love her. [gunshot] The silencer makes a whisper of the gunshot. I hold her close until she's gone, I will never know what she was running from. I'll cash her check in the morning.
watched this with renz. loved it <3 even though it made me cry 10 minutes into it. (must watch with gerene!)
Finally saw the movie yesterday, with Gerene. I give it a double thumbs up. Oh, and i also found this kid really really cute. Great movie, fun night.
Khoda from Reza Dolatabadi on Vimeo.
What if you watch a film and whenever you pause it, you face a painting? This idea inspired Reza Dolatabadi to make Khoda. Over 6000 paintings were painstakingly produced during two years to create a five minutes film that would meet high personal standards. Khoda is a psychological thriller; a student project which was seen as a ‘mission impossible’ by many people but eventually proved possible!
by Elizabeth Bishop (from In Her Shoes)
The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.
Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.
I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.
--Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.
