I am looking for the poet’s language. I feel it, restless, like a promise. I reckon that if the language cultivates what is possible, horizons will open. I reckon that if certain poets and certain filmmakers make me euphoric, they do so through their intimate language. A rebellious and restless language. An archetypal language. A language that claws away and leaves its trace in me.

Je cherche la langue du poète. Je la sens intranquille comme une promesse. Je me dis que si cette langue-là cultive les possibles, des horizons s’ouvrent. Je me dis que si certains poètes et certains cinéastes me rendent euphorique, c’est par leur intime langue. Langue révoltée et inquiète. Langue archétypale. Langue qui griffe et qui laisse en moi une trace.

“I’m fascinated by editing. It’s the part of filmmaking I love most. I could spend my whole life editing. I wouldn’t go out anymore. I would stop noticing the difference between day and night.” In 1988, Mart Dominicus and Mark-Paul Meyer conducted a conversation for Skrien with filmmaker Kira Muratova about her The Long Farewell (1971) and Brief Encounters (1968).