I've been reading "The Artists Way recently," apparently it is good for writers block and regaining of your general creativity and I've started to do what the book calls "fill the void/well" by watching old movies. I'm really lucky because the place I am living in has some of those must-see films that I've always meant to watch but never got the time. I started with Logan's Run (I totally have a '70's crush on Michael York, and Malcolm McDowell for that matter), then I watched A Woman Under the Influence where Gena Rowlands goes completely Bat-shit right before your eyes and Now I'm on Last Tango in Paris where Marlon Brando is just plain Bats.
I have a painful weakness for Bertolucci films the one I've seen usually have some fantasy of mine in them. Although, I don't know how cool I would be locked up in a room having weekly trysts with that crazy MF. What said is that I know in my heart I already have had men like that, intoxicating and painful and interesting, too bad it's not as cool as saying "I did Brando." Is it true that Maria Schinder went crazy after that movie? I don't know where I heard that.
I decided to go into Manhattan for the Bastille festival, bought cute French Postcards, ate a crepe. I got that, that was basically all there was.
No comments:
Post a Comment