This text is part of the Requiem for a Dream // 102 Project, conceived by Nick Rombes, who writes:

REQUIEM // 102 examines/explores/riffs on/detours from/responds to/aggravates/ supplements/ one frame from each minute of the film. 102 minutes = 102 frames. Inspired by the creative constraints that have produced projects such as Longshot! Magazine and 50 Posts about Cyborgs, the project aims to push the boundaries of the medium and experiment with new ways of thinking and writing about film.

Nick has invited 102 contributors from across the film criticism spectrum to look at one frame from each minute of Darren Aronofsky's Requiem for a Dream, a movie that unsettled many audience members when it was first released to theaters ten years ago. For more about the project, check out the 102 Project's About page

UNDERCURRENT

fragments of hope fly toward the sea
newspaper birds of an afternoon

while you build your paper kingdom
watch the sunrise pale light

a narrow path of pink sand
a small lagoon edged with shadow

I am not wanting but it has become
if it's magic show us how

beneath the breeze where rivers turn
soundpools in the silence of morning

somewhere around here a secret
this is effortless something familiar

water door pale water gate
towards a grained departure

each time is a new time
everything will change

•

fragments of hope fly toward the sea
spinning a spell before light

while you build your kingdom
watch the sunrise find out why

a narrow path of pink sand
fractured sunshine long ago

I am not wanting but it has become
the place everyone avoided

once upon a time airwaves
soundpools in the silence of morning

somewhere around here a secret
the moment's familiar energy

open lighted doorway pale water gate
towards a grained departure

each time is a new time
everything will change

•

hope flies toward the fragments
of morning somewhere here

stand by out past curfew
secret motion frozen

the future won't be long
no matter where you've been

fewer sunshine pieces
moment's broken energy

I am not but I am wanting
a grained departure time

everything will change
toward the pale sea

no time no time new time
nothing will ever change

each time is a new time
everything will change


© Rupert M Loydell 2010