Andesitas de la Formación Pisque – Miembro Casitahua

FX —on video

[La Mer — Popular French ‘variety’ song — La Mer. ‘Nostalgia’. Intro with black video. Fast fade up on white sand. A beach. Pan up to feet, legs, full body of two women in sun hats and full-piece bathers walking along the beach in time with the music. POV from behind. Negative effect, strobing, short movements of camera. Pull back to reveal a tourist catamaran, other people on the beach. Change in music/new verse. Fast strobing of boats on the water. Blurring the ‘scene’. Working camera with/against the strobe. Pink water, orange, red boats. Black. Blue. Occasionally overlapping the beach. Fast ‘stills’ of people on the sand interwoven. Final chorus/refrain — a return / xfade to the two women on the beach … fade to black as epilogue to song concludes.]

Rising to his feet, a cough, a bad leg ... Man limps to the chair, where, sitting, he clicks his fingers and a techie in a Hawaiin shirt brings him a drink with an Umbrella in it. Techie puts an orange hat on for him. He pays her.

As the music rises, techie stays, opens the beach umbrella, spins it overhead ...

“ ... O, I have memories of the seaside! Swimming and sailing and picnics and parties and young girls in polka dot skirts with ice-creams and knowing smiles. Ohhh, yes, there’s a crowd cheering from the pavilion, everyone’s happy, a brass band is playing in my mind, and I’m twirling the thingy at the front of the Parade!!! ...

Ohhh, and I have memories of the CIRCUS! where, rushed by a clown with a bucket full of water, I fell through the wooden seating in terror only to open my eyes to spiraling confetti in colours I had not yet imagined. I remember the rhythms of work and the smell of my leather satchel, and I remember play, and the words of poets sent from lovers before they ever loved me. I remember — when the warm winds come swirling in — I remember a place with a heart. People, and images, and words that were blessings.”

Coughing/hyperchondria, milking it ... Umbrella twirling ceases ... techie leaves Video/FX — fades

(Miraculous recovery) “Maybe its the music coming in through the window … but I feel a bit down tonight. No, really. I’ve been feeling like this for some time ...

(A change, sitting forward, removing his hat, simply) “No matter what time you get home, no matter ... Come to see me ... If you do, then I’ll know what is happening ... ”

Interlude II — ‘Confessions’:

Video — Womanconfessions — Wall Video — Manconfessions — Screen

TV — Slowmoon

Video projected/played simultaneously

[Womanconfessions — A naked woman on a bed of crumpled sheets. Negative/inverted effects. Blue. Strobing. Camera/POV spirals, turning upside down, returning. Whole body fills the frame, then legs, feet, silver hair, sharp shadow along the lines of the body pass over into the folds in the sheets … turning again … fade to black.]

[Manconfessions — A title fades up top left of frame, white text: “Confessions”. Fades. A naked man on a bed of crumpled sheets. It is the Man in a Suit in the space. Negative/ inverted effects. Blue-green. Gentle strobing. Camera/POV hovers over a hand, behind a back, the buttocks, thigh, a bent knee. Close-up on face, closed eyes, ‘elephant-like’ texture of the skin. A white eye opens. Folds in the flesh of the neck … a ‘ghosted’, open, full frontal view of the man … fade to black.]

[Slowmoon — Footage of a ‘harvest moon’ shot with a fixed tripod. Fades up quickly to centre frame. Moon traverses black sky and exits frame top left across duration of this sequence.]

A techie delivers mic on a boom stand — Man pays her — Man sits simply delivering text intimately over mic, soft, ‘new’, previously unheard ‘voice’ ...

“I try to dream about women who have loved me, but they refuse to appear ... ”

“I attempt to draw the other towards me, all the while standing firm in my own contradictory discourse of ‘opening’, not really knowing what it is to love, to be in love ... I’ve been looking for Her, waiting for her, as if when she arrived, so would I. It seems we wait for someone else to change things for us. To sacrifice their life for us, to somehow voice our most secret desires, our hopes and yearnings for us. We wait to be made brave by someone else’s courage. We wait and wait. But, really, perhaps I’ve been waiting for ‘me’ — and I simply haven’t known what would shake the foundations of my solitude, the fixed, lonely foot in me: the clenched jaw, the taut buttocks, the tight chest ... the masks with which I have divided myself. It occurs to me that I have already died, already lost love, already been abandoned, already felt the pain of annihilation, already forgotten my own dreamings ... Ohhh, I’ve been crying and crying and crying as if to give voice to my pain would somehow bring compassion down upon me. From where, I don’t know ...”

“I carry the scent of so many women in my armpits, my tears are the jewels they put on, or took off, for me. I want to repent for the times I kicked them in their soft stomach — metaphorically you understand — I’m not a brute in that sort of way.”

“I have desires I don’t understand ... I want women to be strong and brave and beautiful but I also want to crush them. I want them to be wild and spontaneous and free, but I also want to domesticate them. I want them to want me, but I don’t want them ...”

“I’m shaking. Shaking. I am breaking down ...” “More than repair, everything is in need of mercy ... ”

Video/FX — fade/out

Staining my White Gloves: