From the youtube description:
Dislocation in time, time signatures, time as a philosophical concept, and slavery to time are some of the themes touched upon in this nine-minute, experimental film, which was written, directed, and produced by Jim Henson-and starred Jim Henson! Screened for the first time at the Museum of Modern Art in May of 1965, Time Piece enjoyed an eighteen-month run at one Manhattan movie theater and was nominated for an Academy Award for outstanding short subject
This one was super long. Only have a bit left.
Anyway I’m hiking around with these people. We’re walking down this path in the middle of the woods and have to get off of it in order to avoid the enormous piece of equipment coming down the path behind us. The ground slopes away at an alarming rate below us, and now we’re balancing perilously on these enormous trees that are towering hundreds of feet in the air. I’m above a girl that seems to have just fallen a few feet. She’s ok. I’m standing and crouching and hanging on and then we’re watching a video or something. Everyone kind of gathers around to watch the video.
Later I’m making my way back to the house with my husband-to-be. He has blonde hair and is a bit scrappy. We’re talking about everything we have to do together when sudddenly he realize he has to take a car apart. He apologizes, but I say nevermind we’ll do the stuff we have to do together and then I’ll walk the two termination of property right pieces (that we both have to sign) back while he takes apart the car. It’s a good deal, but for some reason things are a bit awkward between us.
Today he was pinching my right breast. He was demonstrating what a nipple looked like in a dream he had or something. I have a pimple or something on my nipple and it hurts when he squeezes it. He’s squeezing the area around the nipple and making the aerola invert. The pimple is swelling and swelling. It hurts! Then it pops up. A small white round thing that looks like long-dried milk but is actually a plastic piece about the size of my nipple shoots out, along with some milky white liquid. I am not so sure if this is good for my nipple. He keeps squeezing and more and more white liquid comes out. It’s like watery buttermilk but getting less and less watery each time he squeezes. My breast hurts a lot now. He says he’s going to do the other one. I don’t want him to because I’m not sure it’s such a good idea. My breast feels a little deflated now. I seem to be too nice to tell him to stop. Why am I going to marry this person if I can’t even tell him to stop popping my nipple pimples?
There’s also a part where we have a hot make-out session in a corner of a cave. People keep walking past because they’re on a treasure hunt?
Dang.
This is pretty disturbing. I was disturbed. That’s why I’m awake typing it instead of asleep dreaming it.
The older brother is digging in the faultline. They both have slightly curly blonde hair, and a deep love for each other. He pulls out a bucketfull and then is sent to find his brother. His brother is with me. We are figuring out which of the two faultlines is the correct one to dig at. (We’re in Japan, wondering between the faultline up North or the faultline here at Ngiri). I’ve had a dream about both of them, and we’re dream-analyzing to know which is the one. My dream was that I tried both of them, and even though neither one worked, I had a great feeling of accomplishment after the second one, the one we’re in front of now. We’re standing at the fenced-off many brick layer of walls between us and the faultline. His parents are back in there, digging. The younger brother puts the key into the faultline that has extended to the brick, but it’s not potent enough there to give the answer.
He runs into there where his brother and parents are even before they start calling for him, sure now that this is the spot. An older gentleman and his young daughter are there, and the older gentleman wonders aloud rehetorically (and bitterly, for some reason) whether or not it would matter if the young boy (whose name seems to be Keltie) digs the last inch. I say “no, but it’ll sure get his name in the papers.” (I know it has to be Keltie that does it). Keltie’s older brother comes trooping back, and dumps the plastic pan full of green limestone clay mud onto the sidewalk just past the gate. He looks at me with his tongue in his cheek, then starts to run back to Keltie, to remind him about the band to find out about the band. I say Keltie already knows. His brother grins and snaps his fingers “my brother is so smart!”
Then Keltie and his brother run to meet each other in the pool near the front. I have a terrible TERRIBLE sense of foreboding and want to yell at them to just come straight out boys just come STRAIGHT OUT. But I don’t. Then they start to come out, and I finally yell at them to GET OUT of there. Just as they’re running towards the sloping path up through the gate, the water erupts from the geyser and underwhelms them on the path. Their feet slilp out from under them and they get washed into the pool. I’ve run down to the lip of the path and am trying to reach in, but the geyser water is too hot to touch.
It’s also too hot for the boys. They have been swept into the huge pool of water now forming, and they’re experiencing the painful burning of the skin in the scalding hot water. It doesn’t seem to affect anything but their skin, keeping them alive and conscious and feeling the pain for a very long time. Keltie starts SCREAMING. He throws his head back and SCREAMS a terrible gutteral cry. Blood starts to come out of his mouth and eyes. His entire body is contracted in pain. People standing around the pool have their hands in their ears and are also screaming. I have thrown my head back just like Keltie and have my hands in my ears to block the terrrible sound of his pain, but his yell is in my head and in my body and I’m screaming with him and as him.
That’s when I wake up.
An earlier part featured me getting ready for a performance with Drew, who is talking about how he doesn’t take something seriously anymore. We’re walking in the cavernous performance space which is like a mix between a cave and a tall-ceilinged office building lobby. It’s actually pretty beautiful. I was getting drunk with my roommates, and then unpacking all of my things onto the wooded first layer of beds. We all claimed the top parts ofthe bunk beds, so all the bottom bunks are empty and we use them as shelves. I am putting bags of my stuff there and hope it doesn’t get in the way of people using hte shelves as a ladder to step up into their bed.
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