writing this while sitting in washington square park facing the arch, listening to Los Indios Tabajaras and wondering how i got to the point in my life where i get to attend a screening at nyff and see apichatpong and tilda with my own eyes.
there’s a scene near the beginning where jessica first sits in the sound room and watched in awe of hernán’s ability to create music so peacefully. it reminds me how artists and creators are often…
i dont know why i decided to rewatch this again, makes everything hurt a bit more.
this has been my favorite film for a while now and every time i watch it, i fall deeper and deeper into this overwhelming sense of pain and loneliness. i think i’m just scared in a way to experience certain things portrayed in this movie.
i’m afraid of leaving home, even though i’m 20 and i have to go at some point, i’m afraid…
“heaven is over-rated. there’s nothing there.”
it feels weird even attempting to write about this film in any way but here we go.
ever since i watched Uncle Boonmee for the first time, i’ve been in dire need of a rewatch. and when’s a better time than midnight when you’re not doing your best.
usually with my favorite films, i will ask myself why i didn’t watch it sooner. or i get genuinely mad that i only just now discovered…