At its center, The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014) is a tale of days gone by, an era that has passed us. It is enjoyable because it is a glimpse into a stylized snapshot, potent with nostalgia and quirky eccentricity, a phrase I’m sure has been used to describe Wes Anderson’s films since Bottle Rocket.
doors open
wetness before rain
birds up in the dim shelter
little suns hanging
on the bough Continue reading
we went out drinking
tired of the library
shelves and dust
a constant sacrifice of silence
it’s quite hard to put everything together:
the land is vast, wide
and full of images Continue reading
There is an inherent property of water: once it is spilled, it cannot be un-spilled; there is no take backs, no true remedy to rectify the act of spilling. When there is no container, no shape to conform to, where can the water go, but outwards? Continue reading
I’m writing to you now
about color Continue reading
