A mini revolution. Wrong choices. The divorce of ethereal beauty and mystery so common in experimental films, in my films. What begins as devastatingly awkward or 'tender' unfolds itself to show a deceptive, strangely rigid literary formalism commented upon by the content. The two dance around (form and content) moving towards and away from each other in the tricky, clear dialogue. Hyper-reflexivity, art and love--and the role faith plays in each of these. I myself feel safest around purposefulness, can read more clearly an artists work when i trust that choices have been weighed, bear meaning. This film requires a great deal of faith, because it is strange and labile. Its device-ness is so apparent as to have left it naked, and then so naked as to be, perhaps, closed again (so that it is possible i have lied about the divorce).