The Far East. The Great North. The Wild West. The Great Bear Lake. Tristan da Cunha. The Mississippi Delta. Stromboli. The old houses of Charlottenburg. Albert Camus. The morning light. The child's eyes. The swim in the waterfall. The spots of the first drops of rain. The sun. The bread and wine. Hopping. Easter. The veins of leaves. The blowing grass. The color of stones. The pebbles on the stream's bed. The white tablecloth outdoors. The dream of the house in the house. The dear one asleep in the next room. The peaceful Sundays. The horizon. The light from the room in the garden. The night flight. Riding a bicycle with no hands. The beautiful stranger. My father. My mother. My wife. My child.
1 comment:
my friend was telling me a story about this time he was out to dinner with Wim Wenders and Lou Reed, and he tried to sneak a picture of them but he forgot to turn off the flash and it was awkward and lou reed got real grumpy and left a minute later. but apparently Wim Wenders is a nice guy. that's the point of this comment. on top of nice movies, he is nice apparently.
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