Ignition & Heartblood

Of Matadors And Bulls

There Marlon dug something out from behind his black leather armchair..

or what else could he have been so absorbed in and murmured things to himself that nobody understood?

That he mumbled even more than usual today, amused James most.
The otherwise restless screen rebel finally seemed to be all himself.

---

James took such a delightful puff of his cigarette, that he bursted out with a panting cough.
Then he caught sight of it.

The rolled Habano, that suddenly got stuck between Marlon's fingers, left him blind with blue smoke..

Jimmie..

The smell of Havanna was sweeter than Hollywood.

Far away -

Away from this star factory,
which stole the glowing from the stars.

There, where stars glew and never lost their glow,
There, where the lights were low,
Nothing would stop me from shining.

In this grey world of hot ashes,
Where spotlights glared at you,
I can't find my own light
At night i'm just like my city,
That never sleeps -

Searching for the meaning of life -

and myself.

For sure..

How would i get creative here?

How could i photograph,
when i want to photograph the core of persons -

but all they wanted, was their beauty?

Showing life with my paintens and sculptures..

When all they wanted, was perfection?

Had there been any director, who had ever appreciated my creativity here?

Yeah, and you all know his name..

I know him well.

Nick Ray..

a genious.