the helping hand...

many people are gathering on the beach... a crane is there too... not the bird but the machine... they are taking something out of the sea... all are watching... it is taken out... dangling from the cable of the crane... it's a huge work of sculptur... a very huge hand in the pointing gesture... but the index finger which is supposed to point is not there... it is broken or something....
the hand stays there for a long time... in midair... pointing... to nowhere...


that was a scene in a film i watched long long time ago... think it was The Suspended Step of the Stork by Theo Angelopoulos, if i'm not mistaken...
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6 comments:

human being said...

oh i was reminded of some other beautiful scenes in this film... the brilliant last scene... that line... that step...

«If I take one more step I am... somewhere else, or... I die.»

and that scene when we hear an Iranian saying how the moon that had been an inspiring beauty all through his life had become an enemy on the night they were passing the border unlawfully...


are these related to this post?
oh the sentimental crow!!!

Unnamable said...

What if this is the only information I can find about the film:

LINK

and what if you had to tell me more about it? About the moon and the inspiring beauty?

Jon said...

And again... if we're talking essence... you got it here too... even the title is enough to draw the audience in...

So gently she steps...

Though her feet still sink into the sand...

Jon said...

Why is there an other?

Why don't all things intertwine?

What do borders matter if I talk about love and life?

Are not borders just another imagining?

Is that not the same as "us" and "them", "here" and "now", "before" and "after", "man" and "woman", "interior" and "exterior";;;

Are these just lines I draw in sand below the high water marks?

Erika said...

Does not an intertwining imply a built-in 'other'--that which allows an intertwining rather than an atom?

Harlequin said...

cranes ( the birds) are echo makers...something to do with the remarkable sounds they make in their throats...
and their homing mechanism is apparently uncanny... kind of a hundredth monkey syndrome...

and their formations are equally uncanny
not sure how this works with borders and boundaries...
perhaps the play across time and space is less ...and more ... permeable than can be named...

this unnamable membrane...