Regular commentor Wally wants another picture of Scarlett Johansson.
Does it seem to anyone else like the bottle is pointed the wrong way?
This entry was posted on Thursday, January 20th, 2011 at 10:52 AM and is filed under Correspondence. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.
The Samantha Camp, in which we write things like this:
We are like pieces of a puzzle, together at last. But you…you are a puzzle unto yourself. A picture assembled out of many pictures. I look at this moment, at the picture of this moment, and I see the beauty: the smile, the naked flesh, the joyful burst of wetness blasting out.
But does it seem as if there’s no real connection between what her head and hands are doing? Look closely: Am I to believe that that she used nothing but her thumb to trigger the explosion, and that she did it as she flipped her hair and composed her smile so she looked perfectly innocent of her hand’s sins? I don’t believe it. Being memorable requires coordination between head and hands, a commitment to the moment that is not in this picture, that is not here in this microsecond held forever in bondage.
No, in the real world its messier than that.
Perhaps we’re witnessing an accident. Perhaps the cork popped off before she was expecting it. You know, she’s just getting into a rhythm — smiling, flipping her hair — and it’s starting to feel really good, when all of a sudden the cork just pops and it’s over. Finished and unfinished occupying the same space. Captured on film, a moment worth forgetting.
It happens. I still love you. Let’s clean up what should rightly have filled my mouth and go on together, satisfied with what is left.
Oh, Photoshop, you make so much possible, including disappointment.