The one above is me doing my best Blue Velvet last Halloween. The one below is the transcendental meditator master himself, David Lynch. I have such an older man crush on him! Last night I went to a Film Festival of his where they played Eraserhead, Inland Empire and Lynch, which is a documentary on him (duh). He is such a clipped gent in his chinos, loafers and crisp white oxford shirts. But he's just like his films where behind the facade of fancy houses and tree lined neighborhoods lurks something off, perhaps sinister, but defintiely crooked. Because you see him working and smoking and you'll notice the elbows of said white shirts have an ever-so-slight rip right at the elbow. He is one of our cinematic geniuses, for certain (and I hate it how the word genius is bantered about so liberally). He's irreverant and funny, at one point dipping a sand-colored jacket right into a bucket of bright green paint. It is never explained why. Siggghhh. School girl crush.
No comments:
Post a Comment