Deep Stuff

Scents of Space
Usman Haque, Josephine Pletts and Dr L Turin
Slade School of Art, 2002.
© Usman Haque
Photos by Pletts/Haque and Sam Brooks

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You know what’s the worst thing about somebody breaking up with you? It’s when you remember how little you thought about the people you broke up with and you realize that is how little they’re thinking of you. You know, you’d like to think you’re both in all this pain but they’re just like “Hey, I’m glad you’re gone”. - Before Sunrise (1995)

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  • me: i don't even care. i'm not going to talk about this anymore.
  • ...
  • me: and you know what else? [2000 word rant]

You name me a picture that people go to just to escape their feelings and I’ll name you a bad picture. People go to have their emotions AROUSED. Anyone who goes to a movie not to be emotionally affected is an asshole. They might as well dig a pit and jump in. I don’t believe people do that. I think the escape theory is a lie. You go to Hitchcock to be frightened. You go to “The Exorcist” to be scared. You go to “Orient Express” to match wits with the smart guys, to play detective. You go to “Towering Inferno” to see a fire. We’re talking about EMOTIONS. No one goes just to sit there. You think a “Death Wish” isn’t talking to your emotions? There’s no reason why a serious film, one about life, can’t be “enjoyable”, maybe even fun. Emotions can be very entertaining. I try to use them generously in my films. John Cassavetes, Cassavetes on Cassavetes 

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And kid, you’ve got to love yourself. You’ve got wake up at four in the morning, brew black coffee, and stare at the birds drowning in the darkness of the dawn. You’ve got to sit next to the man at the train station who’s reading your favorite book and start a conversation. You’ve got to come home after a bad day and burn your skin from a shower. Then you’ve got to wash all your sheets until they smell of lemon detergent you bought for four dollars at the local grocery store. You’ve got to stop taking everything so goddam personally. You are not the moon kissing the black sky. You’ve got to compliment someones crooked brows at an art fair and tell them that their eyes remind you of green swimming pools in mid July. You’ve got to stop letting yourself get upset about things that won’t matter in two years. Sleep in on Saturday mornings and wake yourself up early on Sunday. You’ve got to stop worrying about what you’re going to tell her when she finds out. You’ve got to stop over thinking why he stopped caring about you over six months ago. You’ve got to stop asking everyone for their opinions. Fuck it. Love yourself, kiddo. You’ve got to love yourself.

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