This is a post from a few years ago. Julia Clark reminded me of it today.

A still from here, at 0:27:

it is so startling to see yourself somewhere you are not
so slippy
in my sleep
i am this dancing girl
in the weimar nightclub
and i buzz with black holes
between the nets of swinging cliches
dietrich’s smile
kurt weill refrains
bauhaus lines
they’re all unravelled, sucked away
and i’m left with only questions
to clothe her dancing bones

so who was she?
and what was her name?
what was her favourite food?
colour?
how did she move?
was she a good dancer?
where did she work?
was she in love?
was she lonely?
did she have a brother in the army? a lover?
as she donned that “vaterland” hat, did her chest swell with pride
or was it just the dress code?
where was she in 5 years’ time?
did she have any children? grandchildren? where are they now?
do they also look like me?
more and more questions
and all from just a 1-and-a-half second cutaway to anonymous archive in
a lousy louise brooks documentary
i feel dizzy
eisenstein was right
montage is dangerous.