An Oversimplification of Her Beauty Page #6

Synopsis: A quixotic artist hypothesizes about why he feels bad when a mystery girl stands him up. The event prompts him to ask: what's the content of a momentary feeling? Is it the sum of your experiences? And, perhaps more importantly, are your experiences the sum of you?
Director(s): Terence Nance
Production: Variance Films
  1 win & 2 nominations.
 
IMDB:
6.2
Metacritic:
74
Rotten Tomatoes:
81%
Year:
2012
84 min
$42,308
Website
216 Views


that you are dating

in Union Square?

Well, he must be

very lucky, 'cause

I'm in Union Square right now,

and I'm here pretty often,

and I never see

anybody like you.

I guess I spoke too soon,

'cause she looks amazing,

but, alas, there are

"too many in the wolf pack" as they say.

Anyhow, on to the chase.

I am writing this letter

to tell you that I have e

to be in love with you.

And before, you know,

you were in a relationshp and everything,

me being in love with you was

as much a source of angst

as it was pleasure.

But now I feel...

I feel...

I feel fortunate,

the word is "fortunate"

I feel fortunate

that I love you.

And it's a relief because

I don't have to worry abt

things that

I used to worry about.

Things like sucking

on your lip too long,

or being at your houe

certain times of nig.

I have a new freedom, I guess.

It's a new

and welcoming freedom.

And freedom even at

its least intense is stil

powerfully sensual and exciting.

Do you remember that day we were at

the lounge by your old apartment?

And we were talking

about high school,

and high school intimacy,

and whatnot?

And how there are these little

things that our age has

rendered no longer excit.

You remember that?

Anyway, I was thinking ty

about the rare occasions

when I was lucky enough to

kiss a girl in high school,

and how back then you knw

that kissing was as intimate as

it was gonna get that night.

So kissing was more epic,

it was narrative.

Like at the beginning,

you're all scared,

so you peck around the rs of each

other's lips and breathe all heavy,

and it's...

It was always really funny to

me that people have a taste.

It's actually a kind of scary thought

because if you taste a certain w,

then that means there has o be some

sort of predator out there craving you.

I digress.

But the tasting is le

the story ending 'cae

their taste lingers

on your tongue. Anyway,

all that to say,

I am going to kiss you like that.

You know how at the end of

letters people always write,

"Love," then comma,

then their name?

I don't like that

'cause when you use the phrase, "Love

"comma Terence,"

who would really know what kind

of love I'd be talking about?

Anyway, I'm gonna replace

the standard "Love" salutation with my

well-thought-out definition of love,

just to make

my message more exact.

An art form slightly removed

from its intended context,

Terence.

Terence, how is it that you

have come to like so much this girl

that sits atop your bed

at night,

just sipping beer, fighting the

fatigue of really hot summer nights

as her complaints trail y

into soft sighs?

As an astute observer of life,

I always find it a slighy

odd yet intriguing idea

that a man's heart

can be warmed by my presen.

Self-hate or pure inquisition?

I may never be sure of the

source of my disbelief.

Actually, I find

I hold my disbelief so strong that

sometimes I subconsciously reject

the love beams

that are cast at me.

It's like an invisible shield.

If I can't imagine why,

then just maybe

it doesn't really exist.

And if it doesn't exist then,

well, I don't really have

to do anything about it.

If friendship were measured in

how much a person understands

and accepts another,

then would that make you my best friend?

I know, I know, it's the word that

every guy hates and runs from.

"Friend." Ooh! What is the state

of a world that runs from friends?

But

I think I might have

lost you in my world.

Follow the bright lights

down the tunnel,

up to the seventh floor.

Now, there.

Terence.

I know you eagerly await

my response,

so here it is.

Because I love the electrodes

that dance around your brain

and your relentless friendship

and understanding hands,

I will tell you.

As I come to know and

love myself, so will I you.

I am that I am, and one day,

I may love you, too.

Emotional memory is your memory

of how you felt as opposed

to what happened.

You have been making this movie

on and off for three years.

You no longer live in the same city,

or know the same people.

You value different

things in life now.

You know that she has

forgotten how she felt about you.

The memory of the touch of your

lips has faded from her mind.

You are to her a regrettable sin,

seldom enjoyed,

pushed away on account of the guilt.

Or, more than likely,

your relationship with her is a

memory so faint in the first plac,

it was not valuable enough to keep,

to love as you have done.

You hope it is the latter,

if anything at all.

You have been making this

movie for so long now

that you struggle to

remember what happened.

You are also starting to

forget how you felt.

Luckily, you are reminded

by the editing process,

which forces you to

look at her moving

in front of you, living often.

You think that she has not

forgotten how she felt,

but in her maturity has dismissed

her feelings toward you as juvenile.

The memory of the touch of your

lips may have faded from her mind.

You are to her a past attraction,

once enjoyed,

pushed away on account of a new,

more necessary engagement.

You have been making

the movie for so long now

that you struggle to

remember what happened.

You are also starting to

forget how you felt.

Luckily, you are reminded

by the editing process,

which forces you

to look at her

moving in front of you.

Living often.

You don't speak to her,

so you don't know what she has forgotten.

The memory of the touch

of your lips was

probably not her fondest memory

of you in the first place.

She believes you are a slae

to the wills and whims

of the mysterious

and beautiful.

And maybe you are.

You have been making

the movie for so long now

that you struggle to

remember what happened.

You are also starting to

forget how you felt.

Luckily, you are reminded

by the editing process,

which forces you to look at

her moving in front of you.

Living often.

You know that she has not

forgotten how she felt.

She has long ago forced the memory of

the touch of your lips from her mind.

You are to her a healed cancer,

rightfully excised

before he metastasized.

Turn off the music.

Even though you know

that you should.

Let's recap what

you learned in volume th.

Reality, part one.

First, that you are

emotionally unavailable.

Second, you are lonely, and making

the film with hr did not repair that.

Third, you cannot write

about the situation

without focusing

on the worst of it.

Fourth, you are

quite an unlucky chap.

The following adds to this list

and further explores

the nature of reality.

Is it an organism that

grows independent of you?

Is it ever-present?

Is it possible that

something that

transpires in your real life can have

less of an effect on your emotions

than something you imagine?

What is the code of reality's

inescapable and adaptable influence

on this momentary feelin?

We left off at number

four, so number five.

In reality,

you have never been punctual in your life.

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Terence Nance

Terence Nance is an American artist, musician and film director from Dallas, Texas. Nance graduated from New York University where he studied visual art. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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