the following is taken from Richard Stanley's (director/writer of Hardware and Dust Devil) blog. the situation happened after the premiere of Dario Argento's the Stendhal Syndrome, the first starring his gorgeous daughter Asia (see above). this gave me goosebumps, and picturing myself in Stanley's place...feeling the touch... hearing the voice..in person... turned me into a puddle of quivering nervosa.
sorry E...i'm weak. but something tells me you understand.
it should be noted that this song;
was playing on my MP3 Shuffle. it fits.
alright heeeeere's Richard;
I didn't know what to say so I didn't stick around. My career and love life were little more than a pleasant memory themselves at that point in time, and Stendahl had felt like less than a full meal, at least it hadn't filled me quite the way I'd wanted it to, the way I had come to imagine nothing could again. I pushed through the crowd gathering around the bar, only to change my mind in mid-flow and decide to get the hell out instead. Which is when I saw her. I didn't even know she was there and she had made no effort to show for the Q and A, but she must have been looking in my direction and as I turned our gaze met.
She was the face on the screen, the woman in the picture. She was il maestro's daughter and for a moment that look of fear in her eyes seemed genuine.
"Ri - chard...?"
I can't remember if I said anything. All I know is the crowd seemed to melt and just for once there was nothing to keep us away from each other.
"You've gotta help me... you've gotta get me out of this place..."
I saw Alan Jones' amused face amongst the onlookers and I recalled that long ago moment, when I had first glimpsed Asia's eyes as the Teutonic knight knocked her mask to one side with his spear in La Chiesa, and how the nosy old bugger had simultaneously caught my outstretched hand by the wrist and told me to put out my smoke. But it was Asia's hand that held mine now and there was no objective difference any more between 'real life' and the movies except for one little detail. Living it out first hand was a big improvement over just being an observer...
"Anything you say, sister..."
My fingers pressed flat against the cold glass of an oddly convenient fire exit.
"I don't care where we go. Let's just go, okay?"
The door gave and the dream enfolded me, as if instead of stepping onto the darkened embankment I had passed passed through the mirror into another world where it was all true, where all things were possible. I remember a full moon, fuller than I'd seen it before and a white curtain fluttering and belling like the wings of an angel in the wind. It was somewhere just south of Hallow'een 1996 and for just a while, I was actually happy in a Richard kind of way, safe and secure in the arms of the mother of tears...
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------i need to start making movies.
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