a sung song done of emotion
gone, lost, lika a ghost of a poem
A. Bjerger – Untitled
Les verres tombèrent se brisèrent
Et nous apprîmes à rire
Nous partîmes alors pèlerins de la perdition
A travers les rues à travers les contrées à travers la raison
The glasses fell shattered
And we learned how to laugh
We parted then pilgrims of perdition
Across streets across countries across reason
The new German Film lasted from the sixties into the eighties.
Girls were pretty, smiles were sweet, pains were great….
and black and white was artistic.
Helmut Berger with Visconti in Rome.
Udo Kier with Warhol in new York, Romy Schneider with Zulawski in Paris.
A big fashionable world. But now?
‘I should be afraid of preventing the future and of allowing the past to encroach on me. It is out of the utter forgetfulness of yesterday that I create every new hour’s freshness.
Anthropology i s my archive of lived actualities, found in all sorts of ethnographies
about peoples who have lived very different sorts of lives from my
own, today and in the past.
I should have liked to produce a good book. This has not come
about, but the time is past in which I could improve it.
America is not a young land: it is old and dirty and evil before the settlers, before the Indians. The evil is there waiting.