Here's what this movie's about. It was really windy the other day when I got off work. A tree on Market Street was being blown around pretty dramatically, and the sun was projecting the shadow of onto a white wall. I videoed the shadow and then took it home processed it considerably, abstracting and distilling the already mediated motion of the shadow on the wall.
It reminded me of this passage by Richard Brautigan. I first read this in high school, and it's stuck with me ever since. I've always thought it was a good description of the visceral experience of motion pictures.
I went downtown to see three movies in a Market Street flea palace. It was a bad habit of mine. From time to time I would get the desire to confuse my senses by watching large flat people crawl back and forth across a huge piece of light, like worms in the intestinal track of a tornado.
I would join the sailors who cant get laid, the old people who make those theaters their solariums, the immobile visionaries, and the poor sick people who come there for the outpatient treatment of watching a pair of Lusitanian mammary glands kiss a set of Titanic capped teeth.
I found three pictures that were the right flavors: a monster picturehelphelp, a cowboy picturebangbang, and a dime store romance pictureIloveyou, and found a seat next to a man who was staring up at the ceiling.
From A Confederate General from Big Sur by Richard Brautigan, Grove Press 1964, pp 42-43, in the chapter "A Daring Cavalry Attack on PG&E"