pouringdown

Oh man, I wish I could have you break down all of your films this way, like a director’s commentary version. I always feel like I get something out of them but wonder how much I miss. Now I’m pretty sure it’s much more than I thought.

Awesome piece.

wonderful.

you’re allowing us to get inside your mind and your path of comprehension. to successfully express an artist’s mind is the most challenging and beautiful thing and you’ve certainly done so.

hah :)
the moment, explained.
you do it brilliantly.
but the unknown…

nice.

Genius!

Memory, heartache, joy and all the visual cues.

A video poem. Glad I stumbled “unknowingly” upon it.

I wish everything I ever saw came with a little explanation.

Ah the terrifying beauty of clarity of process.

a small wonder, again…

yet, it all is contained in the first take:
the intensity of the gaze, the compassion, the complexities of memories, the deep and probably reciprocal attachment to the contextual setting… all carefully lay-out, a long story embedded in the moving image(s).

but then again: would one understand, really?

and thus: some more tries.
what a generous treat!
under stand(ings), moving.

in the end, yes.
one understands.
so much more.

the silent language does its directly oblique humming,
while the song partakes in its share of wordy didactics.
some bronx blues, shared.
selig serendipity.

thanks daniel.

damn! i think i love you now.
this is my favorite of all times.
very very nice indeed.
would love to revlog but curiously i see a sudden copyright in the end…
is that for real?

the kindest regards,

michael

beautiful. penetrating because of its lucidness. a moment settling into its reason. thanks for making videos that can be felt again & again.

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my heart fell open and its contents spilled out over each passing frame. sadness as comfort…annotated. love supreme

xoxox
d

I don’t know, I don’t know what it is I felt
when it all came together, just there, at the end.
I went back an watched it again. And I still don’t know.

It was like an old remembered smell. I can’t put my finger on what it was or what I was supposed to remember, but-

Inside, something very far down and nameless hummed. Like metal, struck.

I can still feel the reverberations.

It does not surprise me that you experience this level of synchronization.

LOve it. Second cut adds less than it subtracts. And Sinatra was from Hoboken, not the burroughs.

right. but, that’s not the voice of sinatra.

thanks for the explanations – I liked the patterns in the first take but it was cool to see what you were thinking about it and how the song related/was chosen