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Inspirations for Project 2 |
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Inspirations for Project 2 |
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12th March
Kareen:
Here are some more movies about 'Paula's Boyfriend' from Kareen: Click
here
6th March
Here is an inspiration from a visitor to the site:
John:
John Keats is my favourite poem, and I thought this quote from his
poem "Ode to Psyche" might inspire your group:
"O latest born and loveliest vision far
Of all Olympus' faded heirarchy!
Fairer than Phoebe's sapphire-region'd star,
Or Vesper, amourous glow-worm of the sky;
Fairer than these, though temple thou hast none,
Nor altar heap'd with flowers;
Nor virgin-choir to make delicious moan
Upon the midnight hours;
No voice, no lute, no pipe, no incense sweet
From chain-swung censer teeming;
No shrine, no grove, no oracle, no heat
Of pale-mouth'd prophet dreaming."
2nd March
Kareen:
My thoughts on this piece began with an earlier rendition of our now
more developed theme. When we were discussing transformation, I was
imagining what people do to themselves externally and internally for personal
transformation. In this movie clip entitled, "Paula's boyfrined"
(my friend helped with the concept), I wanted to make comment on the yoga
craze that has been exploding in the US for the past several years.
Click here to see the Kareen's movie - (I've
had to put it on another page because I can't stop the music playing!!)
28th February
Clare:
The Picture of Dorian Gray, Worlds Classics, 1981, p.128.
Often, on returning home from one of those mysterious and prolonged absences that gave rise to such strange conjecture among those who were his friends, or thought that they were so, he himself would creep upstairs to the locked room, open the door with the key that never left him now, and stand, with a mirror, in front of the portrait that Basil Hallward had painted of him, looking now at the evil and aged face on the canvas, and now at the fair young face that laughed back at him from the polished glass. The very sharpness of the contrast used to quicken his sense of pleasure. He grew more and more enamoured of his own beauty, more and more interested in the corruption of his own soul. He would examine with minute care, and sometimes with a monstrous and terrible delight, the hideous lines that seared the wrinkling forehead or crawled around the heavy sensual mouth, wondering sometimes which were the more horrible, the signs of sin or the signs of age. He would place his white hands beside the coarse bloated hands of the picture, and smile. He mocked the misshapen body and the failing limbs.
27th February
Clare:
the following is a poem written by a young friend of mine:
| Reflections
I can see her now, sitting, thinking.
Taking the tin from beside me, she opens it
A ripple of hair falls across her eyes,
She reaches forward, looking at me,
I follow her through the room
She sleeps.
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Reflections - Explanation by the author.
I wrote the poem with the idea of the reflection of the girl watching the girl write the poem, but without knowing she is being watched (if that makes any sense). I actually wrote it about myself trying to write the poem. I had a mirror on the wall in front of me and I tried to convey what the mirror would see while I was working. The girl looks confused because I was finding the poem difficult to write, and she lights a cigarette because I find sometimes that a cigarette helps when I've got writers block. I got up to finish the poem after I had got into bed because I had caught a glimpse of myself in the edge of the same mirror going to bed and thought it would be a good ending. Make of that what you will. I guess I kind of see it like your gif [Clare's - see below] but with the reflection in the mirror watching the girl. The only point where the girl acknowledges the reflection is when she reaches out for the mirror, but of course she doesn't recognise it as anything other than her own reflection. I guess it is also about the magical element to mirrors - e.g. if you stand between two mirrors is sucks out your soul; voodoo use of looking into one mirror and being able to see out of another etc. I gave the reflection in the mirror a personality separate from the girl's own and it is jealous that she is flesh and blood while it cannot exist without her. |
26th February
Steven:
Since I don't know what else to do to add right now I thought a little
levity might be acceptable so thus the attachments. Either something is
emerging from the mirror to envelop me or I am having rather colorful thoughts...perhaps
the music...anyway.
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(Sound file) |
Clare:
It was Rodlee's comments which ended with 'we still wonder about our
future and whether our lifestyles as we know them will change and transform
in time or stay the same.' that prompted this submission. Nearly
everyone taking part in this project is very much younger than me and,
although how my life will still change remains a matter enduring interest,
it occurred to me that I am at a very different point in that process from
Rodlee or most of the rest of you.... and that was the point from which
this animation started! I enjoyed doing it!
Sita:
I found this line in a poem called "What You Are" written by Roger
McGough in 1967
You are the blind mirror before the curtains are drawn back.
25th February
Rodlee:
| 'YOU: THE WHOLE IN MY LIFE'
You are a beautiful princess
you melt my brain
You are the apple in my pie
How can anyone drown in theatre air?
You are the whole in my doughnut
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'9/9/99' Its come to the point where im no longer in your life I just ask about it A point in our lives Where everybody has become their own slaves. What is it exactly you are waiting for? Someone to save you, or dig you a grave? You shut us off from the rain,
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| 'AM I A PASTILLE?'
People quit on us
Through the ages, through all the pages
Your not even here to offend I know your rules now, the way you play
Times are slow
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'...NOT JUST YOU BUT ME TOO.' 'We think this and we think that'
Its true i should tell it like it is
Is it worth a try, worth ruining?
It moves so fast, as i want myself to
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21st February
Kareen:
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Steven: Humpbacked whale singing
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