3/18/2009

a question matter of angles to perspectiIng.... close Up

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Adachi: My tendency back then as well as now is that I lack the sense of discerning and discriminating between individual and society. Categorization isn’t my greatest gift. A typical concentric pattern of thinking — starting with an individual, there is a family, then there is a tribe, society, state — has already been broken in me. At times I was very troubled by my inability to think that way. For example, filmmaking is a collective enterprise. It often happened that I came up with an idea, and everybody else said: “Hey that’s good! Let’s do it!” but after beginning to do it, I realized that what I was thinking was different from what they understood it to be. Actually, when I read The Surrealist Manifesto, my worldview was smashed and opened up completely, with its notion that there is no need to objectify “self and other.” The basis of my assertion that the author should be an activist is my conviction that the individual can only be grasped as a movement.

Sakai: The collapse of concentric pattern is equal to the collapse of geographic senses. Gilles Deleuze once defined “what is the left” and said it’s not a position, but a matter of perception; the leftists are those who can sense what’s happening in the opposite side of the earth as if happening right next door. That is why the left is minor. I sense such a loss of perspective sense in your way of thinking. Although the world is supposed to be enclosed and seems to confine us, you went to Palestine, not for the sake of breaking the closure, but as an extension of the logic of affirming the closure. Your world seems to be one in which normal perspectives are pretty much collapsed._____________________________________

Adachi: That’s scary, but absolutely right. If it’s just a matter of geographic sense, I could just mourn my bad sense of direction; but this loss sometimes creeps into my sense of time and relations between things around me.


____________________________________ O ANti thy hair is round the ever essing space of globe its close to home its chaste myth memory as it sees the rear green pasture of both ~


Of

Adachi and here


thy womb is pristine pray