a winter roll of film I fucked up transitioning into an old roll from spring. and an excerpt I’ve been reflecting on lately, a small discourse on my favorite subject: Rebirth; from Clarice Lispector: “Because there are times when a person needs a little bitty death and doesn't even know it. As for me, I substitute the act of death for a symbol of it. A symbol that can be summed up in a deep kiss but not on a rough wall but mouth-to-mouth in the agony of pleasure that is death. I, who symbolically die several times just to experience the resurrection.”