save that it speaks to writing and strategies: i saw prometheus yesterday, and if the movie as a whole had been as sublimely efficient as michael fassbender’s hair—a splash of dye, a slide of a comb, and the whole arc of western civ has been given a nod—then it would have been truly astounding. how a narrative could convey so much in a few minutes of reference and imitation, and fall short in sheer common sense elsewhere (we won’t get into the arbitrary biology, the unclear motivations, the pussyfooted dates and history), is still boggling my little mind.
the rodin museum.
hotel de sens.
in an effort to use my limited time to the utmost, i tried to shoot photos that could also be things my characters would see. shots that gave a feel for the city as it was. which is working to some extent: i am able now to bring in more textures/colors/sounds, i’m slowly correcting my completely off sense of space (i think i was basing a lot of my spatial perceptions on coppola’s marie antoinette, for some incomprehensible reason). but i realized over the weekend that, in my effort to shoot when there were no 21st-century pedestrians, i’ve been forgetting about the people that would have been thronging the streets back then, hindering movement, seeing potentially naughty things afoot. whoops.
always, always more to do, with this book.