As the sky, our mystic basin, azure is Her Holy Raiment.
Moist-eyed, pliant, the Child remembers Songs of Sisters long ago.
What will happen, when the time comes? Must she wait a life to know?
Something like the Games they played at, in the days before the Choosing?
Something red, and black, like wisdom, bathing face and body of?
(If not enough, another taken, or even three, or more, for Tlaloc.)
Soon enough, towards Tenochtitlán, upon Her lake come alcátin...
Gay, and tearful, is The Bright One; sad and joyous both within.
Soft and floating, 'cross the water, in the alcátin of honor,
To the spot above the whirlpool, where her future lay amurmur.
Black and shining is his life blade, quick as night across His Bright One.
Feel the rush of whirlpool coming, soon the joy of Tlaloc’s face.
But in an instant come the Gold Ones, silver hair and bodies of,
Shining garments, nothing earthly, steal Her from the Otherworld.
See the priests and boatmen stricken—men on deer without the crowning,
Smokingsticks, and thunderrumbles, all Her brethren lay ableeding.
Then the darkness comes upon Her, not the joy of Rain God’s laughter,
But rather Something like a Nothing, Something like a floating dread
Waiting in the sky above them, watching all the strangers come....
fragment from Codex Remo, circa 1519
The novel is called Below the Line
. This is where it begins.
On Hollywood and filmmaking:
Below the Line
sex drugs and divorce
a little life, interrupted
- Hecho en Mejico
- Sam's Song
- Hemingway and Fortuna
- Hummingbird on the Left
- The Long and Drunken Afternoon
- Safe in the Lap of the Gods
- Quetzal Birds in Love
- Angela in Paradise
- And the machine ran backwards
a secondhand coffin
how to act
Right. Me and Herman Melville
Scylla and Charybdis Approximately
snowflakes and nylon
I could've kissed Orson Welles
the broken dreams of Orson Welles
the last time I saw Orson Welles
The Other Side of the Wind
Below the Line
Final Cut Pro
king of the queens
Kubrick polishes a turd
movies from space
Persistence of Vision
Apocalypse Now Redux
The Jazz Singer
Six Feet Under
We Were Soldiers