Monday, September 23, 2019

Snow in the Temple of Memory and Hope




Sent from Yahoo Mail for iPad

Begin forwarded message:

On Saturday, June 30, 2018, 1:27 AM, Finn Harvor <fharvor@yahoo.com> wrote:



Sent from Yahoo Mail for iPhone

Begin forwarded message:

On Tuesday, August 29, 2017, 7:13 AM, Finn Harvor <fharvor@yahoo.com> wrote:
Below and attached is my submission. Included is the text of the poem.

Regards,
Finn Harvor


Name and duration of Film: Snow in the Temple of Memory and Hope, duration: 9 min 41 seconds
Name of director: Finn Harvor
Country of origin: South Korea
Contact details: fharvor @ yahoo.com/ fharvor @ gmail.com. Ph: 82-10-5696-5812.
Name of Poet: Finn Harvor
Name of Poem: Snow in the Temple of Memory and Hope,
*
Synopsis: Attached is "Snow in the Temple of Memory and Hope,” a poetic treatment of the life and death of my brother, who was also a poet. 
This is a mood piece about an encounter between two addicts: one an alcoholic living on the residue of a divorce settlement, the other a homeless person. The first is aware of the plight of the homeless but, in his guts, too afraid of being ripped off to do much for them; like all addicts, he has a morbid fear of losing his share of what it is that he is dependent on (booze). But he is also painfully lonely. This loneliness manifests itself in terms of a desire for friendship (which is not fated to be), and a deep sense of the past.
This particular work is from a book-length project entitled “Family Maps”, which in turn is part of a much larger text-image-and-music project entitled PLASTIC MILLENNIUM.



*
Filmmaker biography: I’m an artist, writer, filmmaker, and musician who lives in South Korea. I have published poetry and prose in a wide variety of literary journals, and my visual work (both drawings and videos) has been shown in Canada, the US, Greece, Korea, and Cuba.

For more detailed CV, see also:

*
Link: https://vimeo.com/169778847
pw: baramone

Text:

Snow in the Temple of Memory and Hope

Or

Winter’s People

pw: baramone



Fade in.
It’s a cold day’s end
In downtown Montreal.
The sidewalks are
Crowded with office workers
And students –
The employed and
the employment-wishing –.
There are others, too, on the streets;
They linger more than walk,
And so, logically, should be extra-visible.
Yet, in the eyes of the stressed-out,
Society’s bustling winners,
This last group –
Impoverished, and too degraded to wish a salary –
Discarded and loosened,
And loose-change desiring –.
Does not exist at all.
All these street people are, in the eyes of the healthy,
The ranked successful,
Existentially gone,
Existentially vacuumed.
But my brother sees them.
He sees them
With pity
And multi-tiered fear.
He, with his bad skin, bulging belly, dirty coat,
Smelly hat,
Is, in fact,
Close to being one of them;
He wants what they’re often pan-handling for --.
he’s carrying it, glass heavy,
In his hand.
But even though his attention
Is focused on them
(the normal people disgust him),
When he sees their wrecked faces –
Francophone pale,
Inuit tan,
WASP red –
His heart goes out to them.
But despite this unfaked, comradely empathy,
His anxious desire for distance is primal,
Instinctive.
His food supply
(Correction: liquid bread)
Shall not be shared,
Shall not be depleted,
And so he carries the 
Weight plastic bag,
Filled with bang-clinking
Full liters of Colt .45
(And for, good measure, 
one bottle of Blue),
And proceeds down Parc Avenue,
As determined to ignore the street people
As the office types
And pain-virginal McGillers.

*

The sidewalk is so frozen
Its slushy, then freeze-dried curlicues of kick-coloured ice
Are striated
Into clumsiness-causing shapes.
It’s hard for pedestrians 
To keep their footing.
“Got any change?” a man’s voice says.
My brother turns to it.
He thinks: a native guy –
Indian or Inuit,
He can’t figure out which.
He likes the man’s voice.
(In reality, the man is neither: 
He's a Chilean who was a refugee
Then a regular guy with a regular job
And a marrow-painful past: 
It all 
Crashed –
There's only so much
One bodysoul 
Can take.)
“Got some extra change? I need some food.”
My brother looks at the homeless guy;
His face is oval,
His skin is pocked –
Handsome and haggard at the same time.
He has good features that’ve been
Kicked around.
The homeless guy looks at my brother –
He has pales skin with cheeks both white with too much inside
And rawly reddened
By the cold.
But the reddening continues;
It climbs up the bridge of his nose
Like an ant up a tree,
And is on either nostril
Like red lights on a toy car.
And he has a big, bushy beard –
A beard so thick that it 
Looks animal:
Rough and wild
And flecked with odd substances.
My brother looks at the homeless guy
And knows he’s a drunk.
Inside his mind-guts: shame
That the homeless guy – whose eyes seem fixed
On the plastic bag in my brother’s hand,
With its four-bottle content,
Knows him, too – sees through his privilege and his apartment and his 
Spoiled doom.
Sees him as a drunk
Without even the courage
To plummet.
A moment of humiliation
Suddenly bursts.
“Sorry,” my brother mutters.
He walks on.

*
The earth, 
Which has been continuing its spin
Has moved Montreal farther
From sunlight,
And now the cloudy winter sky
Is at its deepest evening blue 
And grey.
The temperature drops another degree.
The ice on the sidewalk
Hardens its unevenness,
And cold water
Begins to fall.

*

My brother hears a plaintively vulnerable cry –
The shrunk meowing of an animal baby,
And spots a little cat.
It’s a tiny creature
Maybe an adult whose size
Has been limited 
By limited food.
The cat’s face – direct, humourless,
Ignorant of charm –
Looks right back at my brother,
Its mouth opening (teeth looking like model dinosaur fangs).
It meows again –
Meows rights into my brother’s heart.
My brother stoops to pet it,
The dear creature;
Stoops with his blurry, badly coordinated balance --.
Clunk-heavy clink --.
The cat flees, and my brother, straightening,
Harrumphing at this feline snub,
Doesn’t notice that his grip has weakened.
Kee-RASSSHHHH!!
The bag of heavy bottles is snatched by the earth’s gravity
And breaks cleanly and multiply
On the hard street.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck! Godammit! Shit! FUUUUUCKKKKK!!!!!”
Passersby glance at my yelling bro,
And close their nostrils
Against the broken smell
Of spilled beer.
‘FUUUUCCCCCKKKKK!!” My brother’s rage is boundless –
And useless.
Cold, cold, cold.
He staggers another block
And turns his head
To the omniscient sky.
It, too, has its way of blinking.
Flakes of snow,
First tiny with cold tentativeness,
Are falling from the sky,
Then bigger.
These flakes,
Like spittle,
Fall on my brother’s face
And the memory of childhood
Fills him with such absoluteness
It is like –

*

Recalled: Ottawa, 1969 –
Walking with Mom, Dad and me
To a neighbourhood rink.
outside sensations:
The feeling in old, gone memory
Of living on a quieter, nobler planet --.
The feeling of great, pervasive quiet.
The feeling, too, that the past equals the present,
And has the power to enter it.
Inside sensations: our rickety home,
Our bright kitchen.
Skating for hours outside,
Returning to heat.

*

My brother suddenly remembers the homeless guy
And feels a big regret.
He feels like he just let down a friend.
He backtracks,
His movements a little more agile
Than they’ve been recently;
Like any addict, being denied his addiction
Cheers him up.
But the homeless guy’s spot is empty, now
The past is shoveled aside by the present.
Friendship-potential is – these are the odds – usually bombed into oblivion
By reality.
My brother keeps walking,
His face and hands
Turning more and more raw,
And he leaves the present
Once again,
And he walks down side-streets that are
Concrete portals,
Simple temple doors,
To childhood
And past. 


Finn Harvor





Friday, September 6, 2019

Tender as Tea


A new version of a videopoem now published as Former People in the chapbook The Baram Series.

Friday, August 16, 2019

Minute Haïku

How long is a minute?

Combien de temps dure une minute?

분은 얼마나 되나요?

1分はどれくらいですか?

¿Cuánto dura un minuto?

Wie lang ist eine Minute?


Как долго это минута?

Thursday, May 9, 2019

The Business Army - excerpt

An excerpt from my novel about the Great Depression and an attempted fascist coup in the United States:


"The hell we'll take orders from the likes of you! You're just a pawn! Don't you feel any shame? There are veterans here who can barely feed their families! Why don't you think of justice first before you start lecturing others on their duty?"

But the troops are unmoved. And as they continue their advance, the demonstrators are forced to choose between retreat and the feeble defiance of the un-armed which, soon enough, turns to defeat.

A different officer blows a whistle sharply, and second, more aggressive battalion of cavalry move forward. Some of the soldiers, upon reaching the crowd, reverse their rifles and use their butts like truncheons.

Behind the foot soldier, also advancing, is a column of tanks. In the midst of them is the figure of George S. Patton. He surveys the crowd for a few moments. Then he says to his crews, "Charge!"

The tanks trundle-squeak forward; the infantry stomp in rhythm, the cavalry whinny and attack. The demonstrators are now divided into a series of broken up groups. Some turn to run. Others scream, push and shove. But from several yards away, it seems almost as if the demonstrators might have a chance: the troops and the horses and the tanks do not seem to be achieving a clear victory. Then a shot rings out, followed by another. A woman's voice can be heard screaming hysterically, "Jesus! Lord Jesus!"

This only seems to stiffen some of the demonstrators' resistance, even as someone else, his voice also hysterical, calls out, "Doctor!" and the melée reaches its crescendo.



Full novel at Eclectica:  http://www.eclectica.org/v23n2/harvor.html

LoveWind 12


Monday, May 6, 2019

The Business Army, excerpt

Washington, 1933. The Great Depression is at its worst. The Roosevelt administration is determined to do something, but feels constrained by conservative opinion.
*

The interior of the Oval Office.
It is three days after the inauguration. Roosevelt sits behind his desk, surrounded by advisors, including Lew Douglas, Rexford Tugwell, Ray Moley, Louis Howe and James Farley.
Roosevelt states, "We have to stop this bleeding of the banks."
Lew Douglas says, "We could create our own banks."
Roosevelt: "How do you mean?"
Ray Moley, a soft-spoken man who is going genially bald, cuts in, "We could create a national chain of banks. They would be backed by government-issued bonds. People would have a guarantee their savings are secure."
James Farley, fleshy-faced, earnestly expressive, says, "We can't do that. That would be equivalent to nationalizing the current system."
Rexford Tugwell looks at Farley. "So?"
"The people won't have it. Not the businessmen and the professional folk—the 'doctors and accountants and whatnot.' This is a country built on enterprise, not government interference."

Sunday, April 14, 2019

The Business Army - opening


Excerpt from the opening of The Business Army, now online at Eclectica:

PART ONE
CHAPTER ONE
July 28, 1932. Washington
The sky is a high, mid-summer blue. It has a quality of vast, apparently infinite, peacefulness. Cumulus clouds—as grand as towers—float through the sky, while at ground level the white dome of the Capitol also resembles an immense, majestic cloud.

But also at ground level a demonstration is taking place. A group of World War One veterans moves down a boulevard in one direction while a small group of cavalry backed by a battalion of foot soldiers approaches from the other.

The veterans are mainly dressed in mufti: the neat but inappropriately warm wool trousers of people with only one good pair of pants to wear, white shirts with the sleeves rolled up, or worn-out, shiny jackets. Some are also dressed in doughboy uniforms. But all of them look both impoverished and determined, like a peasant army marching with ragtag determination toward the walls of a royal castle.

Then one of the cavalry's horsemen rushes forward and wades into the crowd. The crowd tries to to stand its territory but almost as quickly pulls back with instinctive fear. The horse rears up, its sweating brown flanks rippling with quivering muscle as the animal's hooves spin dangerously in the air; living clubs.

Two or three in the crowd shriek. Behind them, some others call out the demonstration's rallying cry: "Bonus! Bonus!"

Then the horse stomps to all fours, its rider yanks the animal's reins, and the demonstrators inch a little farther forward with cautious determination.

To one side of this scene, watching attentively, stands the figure of General Douglas MacArthur. He is impeccable attired in a cavalry uniform, freshly pressed, plumped jodhpurs, and brown riding boots glossed to a fastidious sheen. Next to MacArthur is Major Dwight Eisenhower. He is dressed in civilian clothes: light trousers, a dark jacket and incongruous straw hat. He also looks on the scene taking place attentively, but with some embarrassment. MacArthur, however, is unaware of his aide-de-camp's discomfort; his nostrils, petitely equine, flare with impatience. He calls out to the captain leading the infantry battalion: "You there. Why aren't those troops moving faster?"

The captain calls back, "Sir, they're going as fast as they safely can."

"Don't make them go 'safely.' Make them go."

The infantry advance, their long rifles down, their bayonets forward. In the crowd of demonstrators, individuals—with the bravado of the doomed brave—call out.

"Bonus! A fair bonus for the veteran now!"

"Where's Hoover's heart?"

"We fought for this country! All we're asking for is help at a time of need!"

But the infantry keeps methodically approaching, and when they encounter the first demonstrators, they implacably keep their bayonets at chest level.

A demonstrator, his voice suddenly urgent, cries at the troops, "You brutes! Can't you see there are women and children here?"

The captain leading the infantry battalion says loudly, his tone commanding and bland, "Move on, you people. Move on. Remember, you were in uniform once. Do what you're told. It's for the best."
A man in the background steps to the front of the crowd. He has the hungry, alert look of one who would be either categorized as a troublemaker or hero, depending on one's allegiances.

"The hell we'll take orders from the likes of you! You're just a pawn! Don't you feel any shame? There are veterans here who can barely feed their families! Why don't you think of justice first before you start lecturing others on their duty?"

But the troops are unmoved. And as they continue their advance, the demonstrators are forced to choose between retreat and the feeble defiance of the un-armed which, soon enough, turns to defeat.
A different officer blows a whistle sharply, and second, more aggressive battalion of cavalry move forward. Some of the soldiers, upon reaching the crowd, reverse their rifles and use their butts like truncheons.

Behind the foot soldier, also advancing, is a column of tanks. In the midst of them is the figure of George S. Patton. He surveys the crowd for a few moments. Then he says to his crews, "Charge!"
The tanks trundle-squeak forward; the infantry stomp in rhythm, the cavalry whinny and attack.

The demonstrators are now divided into a series of broken up groups. Some turn to run. Others scream, push and shove. But from several yards away, it seems almost as if the demonstrators might have a chance: the troops and the horses and the tanks do not seem to be achieving a clear victory.

Then a shot rings out, followed by another. A woman's voice can be heard screaming hysterically, "Jesus! Lord Jesus!"

This only seems to stiffen some of the demonstrators' resistance, even as someone else, his voice also hysterical, calls out, "Doctor!" and the melée reaches its crescendo.

Link: http://www.eclectica.org/v23n2/harvor.html

Saturday, February 9, 2019

Baram Writer - stills and video link

These are from a series of nature videos entitled the "Baram" series. Some of the text in these movies is quite short; rather like a form of haiku. Furthermore, I also experiment with language, and sometimes split up words from one language (or more) in order to create new word combinations, and therefore new “language ideas”.

The movie is also an "authorial movie" -- that is, it is a work with literary qualities (It has a poem in it), and it is also a solitary production. That is, it is a movie in which one person did all the work, and as a result, the movie reflects the sensibility of one individual rather than a group (as is the norm in movie-making).

*

Celles-ci sont tirées d'une série de vidéos sur la nature intitulées "Baram". Une partie du texte de ces films est assez courte. plutôt comme une forme de haïku. De plus, j’expérimente également le langage et sépare parfois des mots d’une langue (ou plus) afin de créer de nouvelles combinaisons de mots, et donc de nouvelles «idées de langage».


Le film est aussi un "film d'auteur", c’est-à-dire qu’il s’agit d’une œuvre aux qualités littéraires (il contient un poème) et qu’il s’agit également d’une production solitaire. C’est-à-dire qu’il s’agit d’un film dans lequel une seule personne a fait tout le travail et, par conséquent, le film reflète la sensibilité d’un individu plutôt que celle d’un groupe (comme c’est la norme dans la réalisation de films).

*

Questi sono tratti da una serie di video naturalistici intitolati alla serie "Baram". Parte del testo di questi film è piuttosto breve; piuttosto come una forma di haiku. Inoltre, ho anche sperimentato il linguaggio e talvolta ho diviso le parole da una lingua (o più) per creare nuove combinazioni di parole e quindi nuove "idee linguistiche".


Il film è anche un "film d'autore" - cioè, è un lavoro con qualità letterarie (contiene un poema), ed è anche una produzione solitaria. Cioè, è un film in cui una persona ha fatto tutto il lavoro e, di conseguenza, il film riflette la sensibilità di un individuo piuttosto che di un gruppo (come è la norma nel film).

*

Estos son de una serie de videos de la naturaleza titulados "Baram". Parte del texto en estas películas es bastante corto; más bien como una forma de haiku. Además, también experimento con el lenguaje y, a veces, divido las palabras de un idioma (o más) para crear nuevas combinaciones de palabras y, por lo tanto, nuevas "ideas de lenguaje".


La película es también una "película de autor", es decir, es una obra con cualidades literarias (tiene un poema) y también es una producción solitaria. Es decir, es una película en la que una persona hizo todo el trabajo y, como resultado, la película refleja la sensibilidad de un individuo en lugar de un grupo (como es la norma en la realización de películas).

*

이들은 "Baram"시리즈라는 일련의 자연 영상물에서 나온 것입니다. 이 영화의 일부 텍스트는 매우 짧습니다. 오히려 하이쿠의 형태와 같습니다. 또한, 나는 또한 언어를 실험하고 때로는 하나의 언어 (또는 그 이상의 언어)에서 단어를 분리하여 새로운 단어 조합을 만들어 새로운 "언어 아이디어"를 만듭니다.


이 영화는 "저작 영화"이기도합니다. 즉, 문학적 자질을 가진 작품 (그것은 시가 있습니다)이며, 독창적 인 작품이기도합니다. 즉, 한 사람이 모든 작업을 한 영화이기 때문에 결과적으로 영화는 그룹이 아닌 한 개인의 감성을 반영합니다 (영화 제작의 표준처럼).

*

Это из серии видеороликов о природе под названием «Барам». Часть текста в этих фильмах довольно короткая; скорее как форма хайку. Кроме того, я также экспериментирую с языком и иногда разделяю слова из одного языка (или более), чтобы создать новые словосочетания и, следовательно, новые «языковые идеи».


Фильм также является «авторским фильмом», то есть произведением с литературными качествами (в нем есть стихотворение), а также одиночным спектаклем. То есть это фильм, в котором всю работу выполнял один человек, и в результате фильм отражает чувствительность одного человека, а не группы (что является нормой в создании фильмов).

*

これらは「バラム」シリーズと題する一連の自然のビデオからのものです。 これらの映画の一部のテキストはかなり短いです。 俳句の形のように。 さらに、私は言語でも実験し、新しい単語の組み合わせ、したがって新しい「言語のアイデア」を作成するために、1つの言語(またはそれ以上)から単語を分割することもあります。


この映画は「作家の映画」でもあります。つまり、文章を書くことの質の高い作品であり(詩があります)、また一人の人間によって行われる作品でもあります。 すなわち、それは一人の人がすべての仕事をした映画であり、その結果、映画はグループではなく一人の個人の感性を反映しています(映画製作の標準と同様に)。

*
这些视频来自一系列名为“Baram”系列的自然视频。 这些电影中的一些文字很短; 相当像一种ha句形式。 此外,我还尝试使用语言,有时会从一种语言(或更多)中分离单词以创建新的单词组合,从而创建新的“语言创意”。


这部电影也是一部“作者制作的电影” - 也就是说,它是一部具有写作文学品质的作品(它里面有一首诗),它也是一个人独自完成的作品。 也就是说,这是一部电影,其中一个人完成了所有的工作,因此,电影反映了一个人而不是一个团体的敏感性(这是电影制作中的常态)。


*




YouTube link: https://youtu.be/fkhlaEn8qew

Baram Writer - still


Friday, February 8, 2019

Baram Writer - statement and story/ explication et conte


These are from a series of nature videos entitled the "Baram" series. Some of the text in these movies is quite short; rather like a form of haiku. Furthermore, I also experiment with language, and sometimes split up words from one language (or more) in order to create new word combinations, and therefore new “language ideas”.

The movie is also an "authorial movie" -- that is, it is a work with literary qualities (It has a poem in it), and it is also a solitary production. That is, it is a movie in which one person did all the work, and as a result, the movie reflects the sensibility of one individual rather than a group (as is the norm in movie-making).

*

Celles-ci sont tirées d'une série de vidéos sur la nature intitulées "Baram". Une partie du texte de ces films est assez courte. plutôt comme une forme de haïku. De plus, j’expérimente également le langage et sépare parfois des mots d’une langue (ou plus) afin de créer de nouvelles combinaisons de mots, et donc de nouvelles «idées de langage».


Le film est aussi un "film d'auteur", c’est-à-dire qu’il s’agit d’une œuvre aux qualités littéraires (il contient un poème) et qu’il s’agit également d’une production solitaire. C’est-à-dire qu’il s’agit d’un film dans lequel une seule personne a fait tout le travail et, par conséquent, le film reflète la sensibilité d’un individu plutôt que celle d’un groupe (comme c’est la norme dans la réalisation de films).

*

Questi sono tratti da una serie di video naturalistici intitolati alla serie "Baram". Parte del testo di questi film è piuttosto breve; piuttosto come una forma di haiku. Inoltre, ho anche sperimentato il linguaggio e talvolta ho diviso le parole da una lingua (o più) per creare nuove combinazioni di parole e quindi nuove "idee linguistiche".


Il film è anche un "film d'autore" - cioè, è un lavoro con qualità letterarie (contiene un poema), ed è anche una produzione solitaria. Cioè, è un film in cui una persona ha fatto tutto il lavoro e, di conseguenza, il film riflette la sensibilità di un individuo piuttosto che di un gruppo (come è la norma nel film).

*

Estos son de una serie de videos de la naturaleza titulados "Baram". Parte del texto en estas películas es bastante corto; más bien como una forma de haiku. Además, también experimento con el lenguaje y, a veces, divido las palabras de un idioma (o más) para crear nuevas combinaciones de palabras y, por lo tanto, nuevas "ideas de lenguaje".


La película es también una "película de autor", es decir, es una obra con cualidades literarias (tiene un poema) y también es una producción solitaria. Es decir, es una película en la que una persona hizo todo el trabajo y, como resultado, la película refleja la sensibilidad de un individuo en lugar de un grupo (como es la norma en la realización de películas).

*

이들은 "Baram"시리즈라는 일련의 자연 영상물에서 나온 것입니다. 이 영화의 일부 텍스트는 매우 짧습니다. 오히려 하이쿠의 형태와 같습니다. 또한, 나는 또한 언어를 실험하고 때로는 하나의 언어 (또는 그 이상의 언어)에서 단어를 분리하여 새로운 단어 조합을 만들어 새로운 "언어 아이디어"를 만듭니다.


이 영화는 "저작 영화"이기도합니다. 즉, 문학적 자질을 가진 작품 (그것은 시가 있습니다)이며, 독창적 인 작품이기도합니다. 즉, 한 사람이 모든 작업을 한 영화이기 때문에 결과적으로 영화는 그룹이 아닌 한 개인의 감성을 반영합니다 (영화 제작의 표준처럼).

*

Это из серии видеороликов о природе под названием «Барам». Часть текста в этих фильмах довольно короткая; скорее как форма хайку. Кроме того, я также экспериментирую с языком и иногда разделяю слова из одного языка (или более), чтобы создать новые словосочетания и, следовательно, новые «языковые идеи».


Фильм также является «авторским фильмом», то есть произведением с литературными качествами (в нем есть стихотворение), а также одиночным спектаклем. То есть это фильм, в котором всю работу выполнял один человек, и в результате фильм отражает чувствительность одного человека, а не группы (что является нормой в создании фильмов).

*

これらは「バラム」シリーズと題する一連の自然のビデオからのものです。 これらの映画の一部のテキストはかなり短いです。 俳句の形のように。 さらに、私は言語でも実験し、新しい単語の組み合わせ、したがって新しい「言語のアイデア」を作成するために、1つの言語(またはそれ以上)から単語を分割することもあります。


この映画は「作家の映画」でもあります。つまり、文章を書くことの質の高い作品であり(詩があります)、また一人の人間によって行われる作品でもあります。 すなわち、それは一人の人がすべての仕事をした映画であり、その結果、映画はグループではなく一人の個人の感性を反映しています(映画製作の標準と同様に)。

*
这些视频来自一系列名为“Baram”系列的自然视频。 这些电影中的一些文字很短; 相当像一种ha句形式。 此外,我还尝试使用语言,有时会从一种语言(或更多)中分离单词以创建新的单词组合,从而创建新的“语言创意”。




这部电影也是一部“作者制作的电影” - 也就是说,它是一部具有写作文学品质的作品(它里面有一首诗),它也是一个人独自完成的作品。 也就是说,这是一部电影,其中一个人完成了所有的工作,因此,电影反映了一个人而不是一个团体的敏感性(这是电影制作中的常态)。

[note: this originally appeared in Dark Sky Magazine]

BARAM WRITER

EXT. AN URBAN WOODLAND. WINTER. LATE AFTERNOON.
Wind blows through trees, rustles dead leaves, makes branches sway in a creaking, slow dervish.
VO [male]: The wind has its own tone, its own feeling. It’s like … coldness, thinness.
It’s like hunger.
The wind has a body. The wind is someone.


JUMPCUT
EXT. A HIKING TRAIL IN THE URBAN WOODLAND. A MOMENT LATER.
A married couple walks along the trail. We see the wife, walking ahead.
VO: You’re someone. I’m someone.
Your body: petite, a source of warmth. A body to whom love is directed.
My body?
Wind.
That is, has been wind. Still feels like wind, but sometimes feels warmth.
I think this is the final state of love.




JUMPCUT
EXT. THE HIKING TRAIL. A MOMENT LATER.
A view of nearby apartment buildings. Several of the apartments, while still in somebody’s possession, lie empty. The buildings look spectral and aristocratic: the second homes of the well-to-do. The empty homes of the well-traveled.
The couple on the hiking trail, dressed in their simple clothes, look at the buildings.
HUSBAND [in accented Korean]: 열령 집. [”Ghost houses”]
WIFE: They go somewhere, maybe to Swiss.
HUSBAND: We should go on a trip sometime. Get away.
WIFE: I can’t. I have too much stress at hospital.
HUSBAND: I know. That’s why we should go. Your job is too difficult.
The WIFE looks at her HUSBAND. She sadly shakes her head.
JUMPCUT
EXT. THE HIKING TRAIL. A MOMENT LATER.
The HUSBAND follows his wife. He follows her along the trail as the cold sun sets.





VO: You walk along the trail, together today, but tomorrow, Sunday, you have to work an evening shift.
EXT. THE HIKING TRAIL. THE NEXT DAY. DUSK.
VO: I’m alone.
I walk along the trail. My daily exercise.
The scene is still, quiet. Thoughts pour through my head.
I’m worried about you. Your job is too hard. It’s affecting your health.
The sensation is like wind, a stress-wind, blowing the chemistry of the mind in circles.
Worries swirl like brittle, dry leaves.
A new sensation comes to me. It’s a sensation that combines worry and love. It is a sensation in the bones. It radiates through muscle, through organs, through eyes. It’s a reverse heat, as if the body burns from its core.
It’s more than heat. It’s an impact, evanescent in the world, it collides with our lives: an interior shake, an earthquake of marrow. It’s the wind of reality. And it has made an impact.
The body must withstand this impact. The body must marry the mind, tell itself the wind is weak, not the person it shakes.
JUMPCUT
EXT. THE HIKING TRAIL. A MOMENT LATER.
VO: The sun sets behind trees. Blackness descends upon the world.
The sun sets and the wind dies. It retreats to its apartments, its clouds.

Tuesday, January 29, 2019

Drawing collage/ dessin collage

I originally made this drawing many years ago, as a teenager. It captured my feelings of depression at the time. I have since used it in montages of photography and drawing in several videos, including some about work, modern war, and the environment. Depression among teens about the future remains.

À l'origine, j'avais fait ce dessin il y a de nombreuses années, à l'adolescence. Il a capturé mes sentiments de dépression à l'époque. Je l'ai depuis utilisé dans des montages de photographie et de dessin dans plusieurs vidéos, notamment sur le travail, la guerre moderne et l'environnement. La dépression chez les adolescents à propos de l'avenir reste.

Sunday, January 27, 2019

Snow Falling on Sidewalks/ Neige sur les trottoirs



The tragic story of the end of my brother's life

L'histoire tragique de la fin de la vie de mon frère

La tragica storia della fine della vita di mio fratello

비극적 인 이야기는 내 동생의 삶의 끝

私の兄弟の人生の終わりの悲劇的な物語

Den tragiske historien om slutten av brorenes liv

Трагічная гісторыя канца жыцця майго брата

Трагическая история конца жизни моего брата

Frere/ Brother