Hey, this post may contain adult content, so we’ve hidden it from public view.
Hey, this post may contain adult content, so we’ve hidden it from public view.
While back in Los Angeles, after dinner one night, Travis, Walt, Anne, and Hunter sit down to watch a montage of old home video footage from a family vacation on the coast when Hunter was only a toddler. But as the Super 8 starts to roll, you realize that what they’re watching isn’t just old footage, but rather the physical manifestation of memory—an artifact of a moment lost to time. We all collect these artifacts and build monuments to love, whose essence is shroud in a pink cloud of impressions upon the brain. When we peer back into those memories that haunt us—the ones that we cover up in the daylight so that we can press on and live—they flash and burst forth with more power and more sensation than most any present moment can. It’s all those impressions of moments that Travis remembers: the way Jane lifts her arms as she twirls on the beach or her pink lips puckering or her blonde curls cascading on his neck. Her skirt bellowing in the breeze.
It recalls the end of a poem in Motel Chronicles:
Your pink lips
Your arms upstretched
I can’t breathe without you
But this circle of ribs
Keeps working on it’s own.
Hey, this post may contain adult content, so we’ve hidden it from public view.
b&w | love blog
Ali defeats Foreman 1974
Hey, this post may contain adult content, so we’ve hidden it from public view.
Hey, this post may contain adult content, so we’ve hidden it from public view.
