A Woman Under the Influence (1974) / Rebel Without a Cause (1955)
my body clock fucked. appetite fucked. spinal cord also fucked. enthusiasm and will to live dwindling with each day. and it's not even summer yet.
cut my hair once myself, now i'm the family hairstylist 🫠
I think I'm gonna call it Preen. Idk, working title.
oil on raw-ish canvas, 60"x72"
display tbd might do some funky stretching business idk
Kalki Koechlin in That Girl in Yellow Boots, 2011
Reblog this with a celebrity that you share a birthday with in the tags
Language is presented as an instrument of fraud and cruelty (the blaring newscast; Elizabeth’s cruel letter to the psychiatrist which Alma reads); as an instrument of unmasking (Alma’s excoriating portrait of the secrets of Elizabeth’s motherhood); as an instrument of self-revelation (Alma’s confessional narrative of the beach orgy) and as art and artifice (the lines of Electra that Elizabeth is delivering on stage when she suddenly goes silent; the radio drama Alma turns on in her hospital room that makes the actress smile). What Persona demonstrates is the lack of an appropriate language, a language that’s genuinely full. All that is left is a language of lacunae, befitting a narrative strung along a set of lacunae or gaps in the ‘explanation’. It is these absences of sense or lacunae of speech which become, in Persona, more potent than words while the person who places faith in words is brought down from relative composure and confidence to hysterical anguish. Here, indeed, is the most powerful instance of the motif of exchange. The actress creates a void by her silence. The nurse, by speaking, falls into it – depleting herself. Sickened almost by the vertigo opened up by the absence of language, Alma at one point begs Elizabeth just to repeat nonsense phrases that she hurls at her. But during all the time at the beach, despite every kind of tact, cajolery and anguished pleading, Elizabeth refuses (obstinately? maliciously? helplessly?) to speak. She has only one lapse. This happens when Alma, in a fury, threatens her with a pot of scalding water. The terrified Elizabeth backs against the wall screaming “No, don’t hurt me!” and for the moment Alma is triumphant. But Elizabeth instantly resumes her silence. The only other time the actress speaks is late in the film – here the time is ambiguous – when in the bare hospital room (again?), Alma is shown bending over her bed, begging her to say just one word. Impassively, Elizabeth complies. The word is ‘Nothing’. At the end of Persona, mask and person, speech and silence, actor and ‘soul’ remain divided – however parasitically, even vampiristically, they are shown to be intertwined.
Persona | Review by Susan Sontag
another one of my aunts is pregnant. which in itself is shit news but if this one also turns out to be a boy i will be very fucking disappointed, sad even.
oh god take my baldness and psoriasis or whatever the fuck is going on up there and give it to the next male, idc please.