Our white rectangle is not “nothing at all.” In fact, it is, in the end, all we have. That is one of the limits of the art of film.
Our white rectangle is not “nothing at all.” In fact, it is, in the end, all we have. That is one of the limits of the art of film.
“Yours is not (I regret to say) the story they tell / although you howl and gash yourself / scurrying out of the tombs
where you now live. / God forces some. / God’s prophet came
to send your unclean spirit / into pigs, who ran amok. / I saw you
at the bottom of the cliff of pity / diving in pig blood— / “cleansed” now.”
Anne Carson | “The Grace That Comes By Violence”