Iíll Walk With God, 1994, 16mm film, color, sound, 8 min.

 

 

 

flight-simulator-simulation-simulated (a cross-section-sectioned-section-air-stream):

a cinema of emergency, emergent cinema and the "exit" signs (off-screen screens) on which is unfolded reveries of a rescue operation, the likelihood mission of a love affair amidst disaster, in the wink of a flight instruction card, the amorous flight beyond the voyeurism of tacky stewardesses or the peering-through of rows and rows of seated figures, transcending their ridiculous positions (awkward "starkian" juxtapositions) in their air-borne death-to-come through the divine embracing of floatation devices, the indoctrination of angels before their ariel evaporation, the kneeling stance prior to being blessed, the runway of disaster suspended in Mario Lanza's throat, trembling through bodies prior to dematerializing dissolving in the nebulae of a quivering dance, a nebulizing child winking playing with the contents of his goodies in the seat in front though facing away the contents on the other side that would slap the back of his hand if fondled in the same way, the kangaroo-pocket of thought-objects into hallucinatory pockets of the frame (of mind), not to mention the protest of his fixity to a highchair he must share, buckling and unbuckling the strap as the signal that the playing field on which he pulls his instruction card maneuver is played on the shallow-end-of-things or on the plane-of-planes, the instruction card maneuver on which he so often chokes (is it plastic?) and waves feverishly back-and-forth at the passangers in the row just behind.

Happy Landings,
Luis A. Recoder, September 2000

 

stark home