I like to make movies and pictures. I used to make objects, but now I live in a dreamworld. Resignation is a powerful thing. (I hope to get back to the object someday.)

Sound, then vision.

I remember your casual moves and how we all were once delirious.

Everything emerges from desire, magnetism, longing, and obsession. I used to believe in spirit, but now it’s a dirty, low-down visceral voyeurism that propels. I have high-resolution appetites but low-brow motives.

The sound of a slamming chair has a momentary effect, yet it never fails to please. Likewise, a photograph is as real as anything else. The last and greatest power is that of touch.

I feel pie-eyed, 

capable of anything,

good for nothing,

brutal and awkward.

Everything in the world is material, suffocating and bewildering. Yet, even the closest thing is still a million miles away. The small screen is bigger than the big screen. The device is enchanting. It is the rhythm of love (desperation, fetishism, tenderness and surrender) that rules all.

I am interested in concentric rhythms and an ever-tightening spiral. There are no stories, only image and sound.

Blake Cook