Word: misted
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...viewer is soon filled with an identical emotion. Every other shot, it seems, is the crotch of a pair of male dungarees; every adolescent attempt at high metaphysics recalls the warning that mysticism begins with mist and ends in schism. In his soft-centered drama of sex as destroyer and healer, the once promising film maker sedulously apes D. H. Lawrence, whom he seems to have both studied and misunderstood. In the future, Pasolini might well heed an earlier author, whose Sonnet 94 could have been addressed to artists who inflict private fantasies on their public...
NORA did not want to spend the night in the cabin, and so she didn't. She, Tommy, and Eric drove back to Cambridge to grab a few hours sleep. The mist was worse than ever at night, so the ride back was scary. At one point, Nora told Tommy, who was behind the wheel, that they were driving into a brick wall. She was speaking figuratively, but Tommy took her literally, slammed on the brakes, and nearly sent Eric through the windshield. "We almost got killed," said Nora the next day, "It was really funny...
...nice day. The mist was gone; the air, if not warm, was at least only faintly chilly. In my mind I was trying to piece together what had happened during the filming the night before. But it was like a dream: Too many of the parts were missing. And now, in the sunlight, the people working on this film seemed different. It was morning, and that is no time to think of ghosts. For a while anyway, last night faded out of my mind entirely...
...hour later, Nora was standing near the edge of the same bluff Tim had taken me to on the ski-doo. Her back was facing the mist-engulfed quarry. About ten yards in front of her was Tim, looking through his camera, which was on a tripod balanced on the show. Between Tim and Nora was Eric, who had leather encased tape recorder strapped over his shoulder, a headset over his ears, and a long mike in his hand. Behind Tim and leaning on the ski-doo were Phoebe and myself. We were shooting the first take...
There was a breeze and, temporarily, some of the mist cleared. I could, at last, se the deep quarry. I could see the quarry wall opposite us, and the trees on the land above it. Looking to the newly revealed landscape on my left I found the cabin, perched on the brink of another wall of the enormous white pit. Smoke was coming our of the chimney. Tommy, who had stayed behind in the cabin, had started a fire...