We finished our second day of filming. We went looking for Iris fields and as it turns out, all of Tangier is an Iris field this month.
I was deathly ill and grossing everyone out, with the exception of the men working the chicken shack on the route to Tetouan, probably because they spend most of their days staring at recently butchered cow meat hanging from hooks and bleeding on the floor.
The disjointed progression of artistic process ran like the jagged edge of quilting scissors, just as painful but not nearly as playful, moving up and down the small mountains, between high and low spaces as the opinions of two stubborn Europeans collided and exploded and set things on fire then put out the fire.
I found some floral gems and some non-floral gems. The herdsmen knew Zohra from the cinema, finally convincing me to go ahead with my long delayed pursuit- an audio project revolving entirely around men that “know Zohra.” I meet them all the time. They always look alike.
On the last Iris field a small child gang performed their kung fu moves on the Iris heads, then later gave Yto a bouquet of all the heads. I have a pot of them in my room. The stems are too short to properly “vase” them. It looks more like purple stew than anything else. It attracts flies.
I was deathly ill and grossing everyone out, with the exception of the men working the chicken shack on the route to Tetouan, probably because they spend most of their days staring at recently butchered cow meat hanging from hooks and bleeding on the floor.
The disjointed progression of artistic process ran like the jagged edge of quilting scissors, just as painful but not nearly as playful, moving up and down the small mountains, between high and low spaces as the opinions of two stubborn Europeans collided and exploded and set things on fire then put out the fire.
I found some floral gems and some non-floral gems. The herdsmen knew Zohra from the cinema, finally convincing me to go ahead with my long delayed pursuit- an audio project revolving entirely around men that “know Zohra.” I meet them all the time. They always look alike.
On the last Iris field a small child gang performed their kung fu moves on the Iris heads, then later gave Yto a bouquet of all the heads. I have a pot of them in my room. The stems are too short to properly “vase” them. It looks more like purple stew than anything else. It attracts flies.
1 comment:
Hope you feel better. I just started reading your blog- what are you filming?
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