cinema
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Where would you be if your worst moment ended up making people laugh?
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My recent skin diagnosis could be summed up like this: “Hey, 70s girl who spent hours soaking up the sun, competing to be the ‘darkest tanned’ in high school – you’re incredibly fortunate. That spot on your shoulder was serious (an L2 concern), but thankfully not the most severe kind (L3), and you fortunately got
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Art house theatres in the 80s introduced my rural sensibilities to the avant garde of future American cinema at its cultural depths.
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Watching David Lynch’s first film, Eraserhead, in a 1980s vintage West Los Angeles theatre was a paradigm shifter. For a twenty-something from the rural American South, a heightened sense of boundless creativity soaked into me in that threadbare movie house and changed my newly acquired urban trajectory. Lynch’s connection with the fecund space of infinity
Auguste Hill 