29 APR 025
Ricordata, Hollywood
Dear Lou,
July 1st, 2019, Le Poisson Rouge, New York City. After your brilliant concert, I gave you my little book of poems, BARB CONCERTO, hardly read by anyone. By the time you sat for autographs, my camera was dead. I had been filming the cornerstone of a peculiar situation, cultivated over more than a decade. As you were singing, unknowingly, playing an implausible yet structural role, aligning reality for the poetic dissection of my soul. You looked straight into the camera. You saw me there inside the film inside the soul. A myth. Marking our uncanny intersection, the cosmic clock struck the globe.. with a solar eclipse!
As it happens, because I have a metaphysical relationship with cinema, ECLIPSE (1962) is at the heart of this situation I am starting to divulge artfully. Just follow my ripples and echoes, connecting the dots.. equating the solar and lunar alignment to Antonioni’s masterpiece about decoupling obscurity. Dark matter. Invisibility of the modern cloak. From hereon, I shall transcend the mundane with the magnitude of the probable. The singular miracle of life. Granular, spectacular.. REASON AND RHYME.
You see, I’m augmenting POETRY with the continuum I patch across dimensions. To synthesise a phenomenon that outshines magic itself — the blind knife of illusion — I forge my destiny on THE ANVIL OF MYTHOLOGY. My own. I record its evolution as film and music on an active-script. The film that’s making itself. For personal and collective sublimation, I haven’t merely invented the Film-Myth — I live its corpus and breathe its enigma.
CORPUS ENIGMA was born on a simple proposition. Sometime in 2007, after revisiting Monica Vitti in ECLIPSE at the age of 27, a sobering fact slapped me in the face. I had never been in sync with love. Or rather, TRANSFORMATIVE LOVE had not been to me. This key conceptual yearning originates from your mother’s entanglement with Serge Gainsbourg. After their big bang on the set of SLOGAN (1969), neither remained the same. I saw how deeply they were falling in love on camera. The underlying theme here is this: creative couples make mythological work — they make transformative love for others. Antonioni & Vitti, Fellini & Masina, Rossellini & Magnani, so many to list.. but above all, my intellectual parents, Jean-Luc and Anna.
In 1998, in the final flickers of analogue life, I enrolled in film school. That’s where I could finally find and see PIERROT LE FOU (1965). A detonation — like dynamite cleaving mountains. There it was.. the perfect mirroring of my character and my predicament. The romantic rebel escaping his bourgeois cage, destroyed by an unwitting femme-fatale of conventions. I saw myself — the golden trail of solitude — as an impassioned amalgam of Godard, Rimbaud and Breton. I saw my leaking parade of ladies — past, present, future — strutting through life, blissfully unaware of the jam I was in. A self-acclaimed historic creature, THE PHANTOM BLOKE, is caught in the onslaught of dot-com-empires. Internet antics carving up a clickbait society, incapable of perceiving him. Their SMOKE AND MIRRORS versus my abstractions and events in search of my true self — my passion for the heartfelt ART OF SENSE.
The DANCE OF SUMS! Like everyone else who reads this letter, you are tallying up an account of structural facts. Have you noticed how each paragraph roars into the next with a lightning bolt? My fingerprints. I do the same visually and aurally. I am a master of all the mediums of the three creative elements of image, sound and words. Can you guess what’s omnipresent across all fields of my expression? Celestial poetry that blows torrential incantations as I play the accordion of perception. Bellowing my CAPITALISED TITLES for the TITULAR CONSTRUCTION of the undeniable. My very own spiro-mental system of the beyond embracing the hither. The universal fruits of my consciousness and wisdom. My gift to humanity. The MAP OF THE UNIVERSE.
