...in some kind of heaven a thousand years from now, I will expect something. I will expect to see what Kris Saknussemm wrote over a year ago to be made into a very short, grainy color film. A film shot inside his mind. I'll want to sit in an antique theater, with a chimpanzee cranking the projector (like in WAKING LIFE). I'll want this film short looped to play continuously for one hundred moons:
Watching the old men betting on a cricket fight in Guangzhou. Two female students I knew float by in an enormous tea cup, the kind with the dragons on it that change color when you pour in the hot water. It looks strangely innocent in the sludge of the Pearl River amongst the barges and industrial boats.