Outside the sleeping house on which the morning heat lay heavily, a narrow gravel path ran like a white line to the cool viewing point. The waves tossed wildly beneath it, and here and there shimmering spray rose, sparkling in rainbow colours as brightly as diamonds in the strong sunlight. There the shining rays of the sun broke on the small groups of Vistulian pines standing close together, as if in intimate conversation, they also fell on a Japanese parasol with amusing pictures on it in bright, glaring colours, now open wide.
A woman was leaning back in a soft basket chair in the shade of this parasol, her beautiful form comfortably lounging in the yielding weave of the wicker. One slender hand, wearing no rings, dangled down as if forgotten, petting the gleaming, silky coat of a dog with gentle, pleasing movements, while the other hand held a book on which her dark eyes, with their black lashes and the suggestion of a smile in them, were concentrating. They were large and restless eyes, their beauty enhanced by a dark, veiled glow. Altogether the strong, attractive effect of the oval, sharply outlined face did not give the natural impression of a simple beauty, but expressed the refinement of certain details tended with careful, delicate coquetry. The apparently unruly confusion of her fragrant, shining curls was the same way the slight smile that that hovered around her lips as she read, revealing her white teeth, was the result of many years of practice in front of the mirror, but had already become a firmly established part of the whole design and could not be laid aside now.
“Shiver and quiver little tree,
Rain down silver and gold over me.”
“The imagination lasts an eternity. An interval of lucidity with a great effort permits you to watch the clock. The eternity has lasted one minute… The proportion of time and of being are disturbed by the innumerable multitude and intensity of sensations and ideas. Our lives are several lives in the space of an hour.”
Sweet graceful curl, with golden hue,
That decks a gem so rare;
Soft silken trees, each fond caress,
But makes thee look more fair.
Dame Nature, in a jealous mood,
To watch o’er her joys, that thrill the soul,
And guard the lips of Love.
A fat yellow moon appeared in the branches of the fig tree as if it were going to roost there with the chickens. He said that a man had to escape to the country to see the world whole and that he lived in a desolate place like this where he could see the sun go down every evening like God made it to do.
KHLOARIS is pleased to announce our appearance on the brand new Cheap Chills Podcast by @benwalkerstorey of @cheapchillsfanclub.
Cheap Chills is one of our favorite spots on the internet and scratches all of those wild, unkempt that us 2nd and 3rd generation monster kids have. You should be following them if you’re not already.
It’s nice to meet Ben, the man behind the account, and talk about Kiss Meets the Phantom of the Park, the complete works of the Coreys, and how to make truly weird, and truly original movies during a uncertain time when most people only want background noise.
We love these moments where social media can bring disparate, but like-minded oddball strangers together to share notes and hopefully move the culture forward. Link in bio.
At least one KHLOARIS production, “Holy Wound,” and maybe more — we don’t know! — is screening as part of this fantastic program of underground and unusual films in Coney Island on July 5 at Coney Island USA, curated by our friend and sometimes collaborator @dylanmarsgreenberg.
“Holy Wound” will take you deep, deep into the woods, murder you, bloodily, and maybe the woodland witches will put you back together again, as something more in tune with the spirits than before. Directed and written by the singular @josafat.concepcion, with cinematography by @kyles_camera_roll, music by @the.flushing.remonstrance and starring @lamorenoanita, @mem_willis and a cadre of real life witches and forest cult people. A more fascinating, disturbing story has never been told. A KHLOARIS Production.
With more films by KHLOARIS friends and/or collaborators Dylan Greenberg, Nick Zedd, Lisa Hammer and more.
Be there, or be in the circle of protection and god help your soul.
Excerpt from the new, controversial Star Wars series “The Acolyte,” now streaming on Paramount Max (only $23.99 a month with a three year commitment!). The series deals intergalactic insurance agents. This has been a very polarizing moment in the history of streaming, so much that some see this as endangering our great streaming future. I don’t get it: this looks like pure cinema to me, and insurance money is indeed great.
When the theater densely filled
The glad ovation thrice outbroke.
I, badly stunned, was all but killed
When fell the tree, but Faun the stroke
With right hand brushed aside; the god
Of poets he. A fane must tell
Thy thanks while victims due the sod;
Blood from my humble must well.
Poor Rudi! Brief was the triump of your childish dæmony. It had entered into a field of power farr more charged with fate, far more dæmonic than its own, which speedily shattered, consumed, and extinguished it. Unhappy “Du”! It was inappropriate to the blue-eyed mediocrity that had achieved it; nor could he who so far condescended refrain from avenging the humiliation inseparable from the condescension, pleasurable though that may have been. The revenge was automatic, cold-eyed, secret. But let me tell my tale.
