понедељак, 1. новембар 2021.

Noć Slomljenih Strela: "Sećanje Na Orah" | Night Of Broken Arrows | Zbirka Kratkih Priča | A book Of Short Stories | Un Livre D'histoires Courtes

 

Noć Slomljenih Strela: 

"Sećanje Na Orah" 






  Vraćam se daleko, u vreme koje je zapisano u mojim osećanjima , koje mi nudi oskudne vizuelne slike.

Lice pripitog i brzog dede i lice takođe pripitog ali usporenog, drugog dede. Lice jedne nasmejane babe, lice druge nasmejane babe, lice zamišljene i odsutne prastare prababe. Svima se oči cakle, dedama usled alkoholnog opijenog bljeska, babama zbog jakih emocija i sete u grudima.
Livada, velika, prostrana. Trava visoka koliko i ja, prava džungla i raj za čula. Puno belih leptira, pčela, osa, opasnih obada, guštera, zmija, mačaka, pasa, krtica, kišnih glista i mrava. Čitav kosmos darovan kao najlepša i najzanimljivija igračka.
Penjem se na malo brdo, i zamišljam da sam kralj. Trebao mi je još i štap da ga podignem u vis, ka čistom plavom nebu. Da potvrdim da vladam svetom. Tražio sam da iščupam iz zemlje nešto što bi odgovaralo veličini moje volje za moći. Video sam jaku, debelu stabljiku i iščupao  sam je iz sve snage, morao sam da se potvrdim. Tako sam jako vukao da sam se okliznuo, pao i za malo proboo ispod oka. Krenuo sam kući plačući, držeći ranu iz koje je curila krv. Brzo su je očistili. Nije bilo strašno, ali ja taj štap ka nebu nisam podigao… Stavili su me u kadu da me operu, negde sam naleteo na crnu smolu, nisam ni primetio das sam sav crn. Baba je uzela vim i četku za pranje tepiha, ne znam o čemu je razmišljala ali mi je na jednom mestu odrala kožu sa noge. Plakao sam glasno. Vlada, prijatelj kuće je došao da pomogne. Natrljao je šampon na moju kosu i uzeo tuš da je ispere. Pripit poprlično, zaboravio je na hladnu vodu, odvrnuo je samo vruću. Aurliknuo sam, vrela voda po glavi mi je napravila dobru opekotinu. Možda je to zbog one mačke što sam je pustio da se udavi u buretu, pomislio sam. Da me uteše, svi su se skupili i u dnevnoj sobi pevali dečije pesmice. Gledao sam ih i još tad posumnjao da li su normalni? Teča mi je dao metalnih deset dinara. Brzo mi je dosadilo da ih držim u rukama pa sam ih stavio u usta i počeo da se davim, kovanica se zaglavila u grlu.
Tada sam prvi put video paniku odraslih, pometeni, kao igračke na navijanje sudarali su se međusobno pokušavajući da nešto urade.
Teča je bio najprisebniji, uhvatio me je za noge i okrenuo naopačke, udarao me je šakom po ledjima i kovanica je izletela iz grla. Tada su svi osim teče vikali na mene i govorili kako treba da odrastem. Kasnije u krevetu, setio sam se svih mravljih spavaonica koje sam polivao vodom i uništavo nemilosrdno gazeći sve mrave, mislio sam da sam zbog toga možda trebao da se ugušim.
Nekoliko dana kasnije roditelji su spakovali moje stvari. Seli smo u automobil i otišli na more.
Uživao sam na Suncu i gledao neobičnu prirodu oko sebe. Zagledao sam se u neki kaktus i razmatrao njegov crveni cvet i opasne bodlje. Oko njega je sklupčano u hladu odmarao blavor, ličio je na debelu zmiju ali su mi objasnili da se on hrani zmijama i da je bezopasan po ljude. Moju zamišljenost je prekinuo tup udarac. Osetio sam kako mi vrela krv curi niz lice. Imam i danas fotografiju devojčice koja mi je kamenom razbila glavu. Na fotografiji smo ona i ja, samo umesto zavoja koji sam neko vreme nosio, na slici je veliki beli cvet koji je ona ubrala i stavila kao ukras na moj lepo začešljan razdeljak. Pokušavao sam da shvatim zašto me je devočica udarila kamenom u glavu ali ništa nisam mogao da zaključim. Kasnije sam se setio, pokidanih krilaca belih leptirova koja su se pretvarala u prah na mojim dlanovima i bilo mi je jasno da mi je glava razbijena zbog toga.
Te noći sam sanjao ogromnu zmiju, veličine kafane koja je bila u blizini, kako leži ispred uskog prolaza ka mojoj kući na moru. Sledio sam se od straha, nadajući se da se zmija neće pomeriti. Taj san neću nikada zaboraviti.
Kada smo se vratili sa mora, sledio je drugi san koji će isto tako ostati zauvek u mom sećanju.
Sumrak je, vraćam se kući i snažno osećam opasnost. Osvrćem se oko sebe ali ne vidim ništa što u meni rasplamsava strah. Tek ispred ulaznih vrata shvatam i vidim šta me čeka u stanu, sakriveno u senci, mračnije od nje. Oblik ima čovečiji ali nije čovek, nije veštica, nije ni veštac, crni stranac... strašno pakleno stvorenje koje me čeka da napravim još jedan korak da bi me dohvatilo i nahranilo se. Probudio sam se u znoju, zahvalan što sam živ.
……………
Počeo sam veoma rano da postavljam sebi pitanja o životu i  o smrti i pokušavao da  razjasnim sam sebi neke stvari. Gledao sam odrasle i osećao da na to pitanje od njih neću dobiti nikakav odgovor, tako da ih o tome nikada nisam ništa ni pitao. Počeo sam da tražim odgovor sam i znao sam da će to biti dugotrajan proces.
Ono što sam prvo zaključio je da sam neraskidivo povezan sa svime što me okružuje. Svaki pogrešan potez koji je u kasnijoj budućnosti sledio, a odvajao me od te veze, bio je bezdan i kao ukus gorkog otrova koji bih osetio. Pri sličnim razmišljanjima, uvek se pred mojim očima otvarala ogromna krošnja oraha kojeg sam ubio. Toliki orah, ogroman, plodan. Orah koji je bio moja kućica, moj mir. Zašto, zašto sam to učinio? Zašto sam mu lomio grančicu po grančicu, a zatim prešao na velike grane i tako ga osakatio da je gorostasni orah uvenuo i osušio se skroz, naskroz. Sećam se kada su ga iskopavali, trajalo je to tri dana, tako je duboke korene imao.
…………….
Juri misao mojim telom, kao krv kada sam bio dete i ne pita. Dete traži odgovor, detetu treba siloviti, leteći skok, dete traži dela koja će ga pred nebom pomilovati, suncu još snage dati, svemir ako treba ponovo skupiti, sve okrenuti i njegovu ruku sa zelenom granom ponovo pod nebo podići.


Sebastian Sava Gor


Noć slomljenih strela, BG | SEEcult.org


"Remembrance Of The Walnut"

I go back far, to a time written in my feelings, which offers me scant visual images.

The face of a drunk and fast grandfather and the face of another grandfather, also drunk but slowed down. The face of one smiling grandmother, the face of another smiling grandmother, the face of a pensive and absent great-grandmother. Everyone's eyes glaze over, grandfathers due to an alcoholic flash, grandmothers due to strong emotions and thoughts in their chests.

Meadow, large, spacious. The grass is as tall as I am, a real jungle and a paradise for the senses. Lots of white butterflies, bees, wasps, danger rings, lizards, snakes, cats, dogs, moles, earthworms and ants. The entire cosmos gifted as the most beautiful and interesting toy.

I climb a small hill, and imagine that I am a king. I also needed a stick to lift it up into the clear blue sky. To confirm that I rule the world. I sought to pluck from the earth something to match the magnitude of my will to power. I saw a strong, thick stalk and I pulled it out with all my might, I had to assert myself. I was pulling so hard that I slipped, fell and almost got a puncture under my eye. I started home crying, holding the bleeding wound. They cleaned it up quickly. It wasn't terrible, but I didn't raise that stick to the sky... They put me in the bathtub to wash me, somewhere I bumped into black resin, I didn't even notice that I was all black. Grandma took a mop and a brush to wash the carpet, I don't know what she was thinking, but she peeled the skin off my leg in one place. I cried out loud. Vlada, a friend of the house came to help. He rubbed shampoo into my hair and took a shower to wash it off. Very drunk, he forgot about cold water, he only turned on hot water. I snorted, the hot water on my head giving me a good burn. Maybe it's because of that cat I let her drown in the barrel, I thought. To comfort me, they all got together and sang children's songs in the living room. I looked at them and still doubted if they were normal? Teča gave me a metal ten dinars. I quickly got tired of holding them in my hands so I put them in my mouth and started choking, the coin stuck in my throat.

That was the first time I saw the panic of adults, swept away, like wind-up toys colliding with each other trying to do something.

Techa was the most composed, he grabbed my legs and turned me upside down, he punched me on the back and the coin flew out of his throat. Then everyone except Techa shouted at me and told me that I should grow up. Later in bed, I remembered all the ant dormitories I had poured water over and stomping on all the ants, I thought maybe I should have suffocated because of that.

A few days later my parents packed my things. We sat in the car and went to the sea.

I enjoyed the sun and looked at the unusual nature around me. I stared at a cactus and considered its red flower and dangerous spines. Around him, curled up in the shade, a snake was resting, it looked like a fat snake, but they explained to me that it feeds on snakes and is harmless to humans. My reverie was interrupted by a thump. I felt hot blood running down my face. I still have a photo of the girl who smashed my head with a rock. The photo shows her and me, only instead of the bandage that I wore for a while, the picture shows a large white flower that she picked and placed as a decoration on my nicely combed parting. I was trying to understand why the girl hit me in the head with a stone, but I couldn't conclude anything. Later I remembered the torn wings of white butterflies turning into dust on my palms and it was clear to me that my head was broken because of it.

That night I dreamed of a huge snake, the size of a nearby tavern, lying in front of the narrow passage to my house by the sea. I followed in fear, hoping the snake wouldn't move. I will never forget that dream.

When we returned from the sea, another dream followed which will also remain forever in my memory.

It's dusk, I'm coming home and I feel a strong sense of danger. I look around but I see nothing that ignites fear in me. Only in front of the front door do I realize and see what awaits me in the apartment, hidden in the shadows, darker than her. It has a human form, but it is not human, it is not a witch, it is not even a sorcerer, a black stranger... a terrible hellish creature that is waiting for me to take one more step in order to reach me and feed on me. I woke up in a sweat, grateful to be alive.

……………

I started very early asking myself questions about life and death and trying to clarify some things for myself. I looked at the adults and felt that I would not get any answer to that question from them, so I never asked them anything about it. I started looking for the answer on my own and I knew it would be a long process.

What I first concluded was that I am inextricably connected with everything that surrounds me. Every wrong move that followed in the later future, and separated me from that relationship, was an abyss and like the taste of bitter poison that I would feel. During similar thoughts, the huge crown of the walnut tree that I killed always opened before my eyes. Such a nut, huge, fertile. The nut that was my house, my peace. Why, why am I in did? Why did I break it branch by branch, and then move on to the big branches and mutilate it so that the mountain nut withered and dried up completely, completely. I remember when they dug it up, it took three days, it had such deep roots.

…………….

A thought rushes through my body, like blood when I was a child and doesn't ask. The child is looking for an answer, the child needs to be raped, a flying jump, the child is looking for actions that will pardon him before the sky, give the sun more strength, the universe if it needs to be gathered again, turn everything around and raise his hand with the green branch under the sky again.


Keywords:  nouvelle, nouvelles, histoires courtes. short story, short stories, zbirka kratkih priča, a book of short stories, un livre d'histoires courtes, gospodar samoće, господар самоће, lord of solitude, seigneur de la solitude, noć slomljenih strela,  une nuit de flèches brisées, a night of broken arrows, ноћ сломљених стрела, кратка прича, збирка кратких прича,  књига кратких прича, nuit des flèches brisées, book of short stories, zbirka priča, un livred histoires courtes, book, books,  književnost, literature, littérature, un livre, knjiga Noć Slomljenih Strela: "Sećanje Na Orah"  10 | 
Night Of Broken Arrows | Zbirka Kratkih Priča | A book Of Short Stories | Un Livre D'histoires Courtes 



недеља, 31. октобар 2021.

Movies and Music: "Halloween" (1978) * Soundtrack - Horror


"Halloween" (1978) 

Halloween is a 1978 American independent slasher film directed and scored by John Carpenter, co-written with producer Debra Hill, and starring Donald Pleasence and Jamie Lee Curtis in her film debut. The plot centers around a mental patient Michael Myers who was committed to a sanitarium for murdering his babysitting teenage sister on Halloween night when he was six years old. Fifteen years later, he escapes and returns to his hometown, where he stalks a female babysitter and her friends, while under pursuit by his psychiatrist.

Filming took place in Southern California in May 1978, before premiering in October, where it grossed $70 million, becoming one of the most profitable independent films of all time. Primarily praised for Carpenter's direction and score, many critics credit the film as the first in a long line of slasher films inspired by Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho (1960) and Bob Clark's Black Christmas (1974).

Halloween spawned a film franchise comprising eleven films which helped construct an extensive backstory for its antagonist Michael Myers, sometimes narratively diverging entirely from previous installments. A direct sequel of the film was released in 1981. A remake was released in 2007, which was followed by a sequel in 2009. An eleventh installment, which serves as a direct sequel to the original film that retcons all previous sequels, was released in 2018; this was followed by two direct sequels: Halloween Kills (2021) and the upcoming Halloween Ends (2022). Additionally, a novelization, a video game and comic book series have been based on the film. In 2006, the film was selected for preservation in the United States National Film Registry by the Library of Congress as being "culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant."




Directed by John Carpenter

Screenplay by
John Carpenter
Debra Hill

Produced by Debra Hill

Starring

Donald Pleasence
Jamie Lee Curtis
P. J. Soles
Nancy Loomis

Cinematography Dean Cundey
Edited by
Tommy Wallace
Charles Bornstein

Music by John Carpenter

Production Companies

Compass International Pictures
Falcon International Productions

Distributed by
Compass International Pictures
Aquarius Releasing

Release date
October 25, 1978
Running time 91 minutes
Country United States
Language English
Budget $300,000–325,000
Box office $60–70 million










Noć Slomljenih Strela: "Prsten, Puška" ::: Night of the Broken Arrows: "The Ring, The Rifle"/ Zbirka Kratkih Priča. A book Of Short Stories - kratka priča, - kratke priče, short stories,

 

Noć Slomljenih Strela: "Prsten, Puška" ::: Night of the Broken Arrows:  "The Ring, The Rifle"/ Zbirka Kratkih Priča. A book Of Short Stories - kratka priča, - kratke priče, short stories,


Noć Slomljenih Strela: 

"Prsten, Puška" 



Kupio sam prsten, odmah zatim kupio sam pušku.


Zoran me je gledao tupo, Nebojša setno.

" Momci… ovo je ipak 21 vek… svaka čast za sve ali naši putevi se ovde razilaze...ćao ! „

Rekao sam to sasvim polako i dovoljno ubedljivo da su momci shvatili da se ne šalim.

Prsten sam stavio na mali prst, sijao je zlokobno dok je šaputao svoje tajne.

Repetirao sam pušku i naslonio je na desnu nogu, prst je bio na orozu.

Polako sam išao sredinom glavne ulice. Sijao je neon, u kontrastu sa mračnim nebom to je bila zanimljiva kompozicija.

Jasno sam znao šta treba uraditi. Težina na mom srcu gorela je vekovima.

Nedomici je bio kraj, škorpion u mom džepu je napokon progovorio i jasno dao do znanja da dvoumici mesta više nema.

Ona je morala da nestane sa lica zemlje. Neće bilo dovoljno vratiti je u pepeo. Njena izdaja je bila gora i ona mora večno putovati i nikada ne stići, bol koju će pritom osećati ravna je potpunoj haotičnosti gde se čupa kosa i udara glavom o zid.
Tamo ću je poslati.

Gavrani su pametno shavatali da će ispod njih teći nešto nalik na krv. Skrasili su se u svojim krošnjama i nisu imali nameru da gledaju.

Kosa mi se lepila u znoju, očekivao sam da se pojavi.

Udario je jak vetar, nosio je ulično djubre i lepio ga za mene, ubrzo sam se jako teško pokretao, đubre se nagomilavalo. Podigao sam pušku ispred. Bilo je dovoljno da ugledam cilj.

Još jedanput sam u utrobi osetio senku romantizma, bacio sam kletvu na nju.

Tada sam je video. Stajala je nepomično sa blagim i iskrenim smeškom.

“ Znači to je to. “ - rekla je mirno.

“ Da. “ - pucao sam i ciljao u glavu.

Pala je. Nisam je ni pogledao, znao sam da nije kraj.

Iz podhodnika je izašla ponovo , oči su joj blistale, odsjaj je zvecnuo o moj prsten.

Pucao sam ponovo, pogodio je posred čela, silina metka je vratila u podhodnik.
Teško sam hodao dalje. Pretvorio sam se u gomilu đubreta i nije mi bilo lako da koračam i ciljam.

Naglo sam okrenu glavu. U dubini pasaža caklio se tamno crveni karmin.

Pucanj je odjeknuo kao bomba, stakla na izlozima su popucala, ona je pala i više se nikada nije podigla.

Tužno, obzirom da me je nekada višestruko više volela.


P.S.
Zahvalan sam na inspiraciji za ovu priču:
Nebojša Antonijević – Anton
Zoran Kostić - Cane

Bend Partibrejkers. Pesma „Prsten”











Night of the Broken Arrows:

"The Ring, The Rifle"

I bought a ring, then immediately bought a rifle.

Zoran stared at me blankly, Nebojša wistfully.

"Guys… this is the 21st century, after all… Respect for everything, but our paths split here… Goodbye!"

I said it slowly, convincingly enough that they understood I wasn’t joking.

I slipped the ring onto my pinky finger. It gleamed ominously, whispering its secrets.

I cocked the rifle and rested it against my right leg, my finger on the trigger.

I walked slowly down the middle of the main street. The neon lights flickered, striking a contrast against the dark sky and forming an interesting composition.

I knew exactly what needed to be done. The weight on my heart had been burning for centuries.

The moment of doubt was over; the scorpion in my pocket finally spoke, making it clear that hesitation had no place anymore.

She had to disappear from the face of the earth. Reducing her to ashes wouldn’t be enough. Her betrayal was far worse—she must wander forever, never arriving anywhere, her suffering equal to utter chaos, where hair is torn out, and heads smash against walls.

That’s where I would send her.

In their wisdom, the ravens understood that something resembling blood would soon flow beneath them. They settled in the treetops, unwilling to witness what was to come.

Sweat plastered my hair to my forehead as I waited for her to appear.

A strong wind blew, carrying street trash and sticking it to me. Soon, I could barely move—the garbage piled up, weighing me down. I raised the rifle. I only needed to see my target.

Once more, a shadow of romance stirred within me—I cast a curse upon her.

Then, I saw her. Standing motionless, with a soft and genuine smile.

"So, this is it," she said calmly.

"Yes," I answered, and fired, aiming for her head.

She fell. I didn’t even look—I knew it wasn’t over.

She emerged again from the underpass, her eyes gleaming. The reflection of that light clinked against my ring.

I fired again, hitting her square in the forehead. The force of the bullet sent her tumbling back into the underpass.

I trudged forward, now nothing more than a heap of trash. Walking and aiming became harder.

Suddenly, I turned my head.

In the depths of the passageway, a dark red lipstick shimmered.

The gunshot echoed like a bomb. Storefront windows shattered.

She fell and never rose again.

Sad, considering she once loved me so much more than I ever loved her.


P.S.
I am grateful for the inspiration for this story:
Nebojša Antonijević – Anton
Zoran Kostić – Cane

Band: Partibrejkers
Song: "Prsten"






Recension for book - Sebastian Sava Gor : “The night of broken arrows”, Belgrade, 2014, short stories about urban man. Text is analysing urban man today, and find, in this short stories, it is quite different from the urban man of Megalopolis I / Metropolis of Fritz Lang - megalopolis of wishes/, and the urban man of Megalopolis II / …read more





"Slepac" Crtež - Sebastian Sava Gor


Keywords:  nouvelle, nouvelles, histoires courtes. short story, short stories, zbirka kratkih priča, 
a book of short stories, un livre d'histoires courtes, gospodar samoće, господар самоће, lord of solitude, seigneur de la solitude, noć slomljenih strela,  une nuit de flèches brisées, a night of broken arrows, ноћ сломљених стрела, кратка прича, збирка кратких прича,
књига кратких прича, nuit des flèches brisées, book of short stories, zbirka priča, #un livred histoires courtes, book, books,  književnost, literature, littérature, un livre #knjiga



субота, 30. октобар 2021.

Ishod Na Nišanu: "Beloglavi Sup" 20 | Zbirka Poezije | Poetry Collection | Recueil de poésie | poezija | poetry | poésie


Ishod Na Nišanu:

"Beloglavi Sup"  




 Vetar juri okeanom, juri pustinjom,

Šumom, livadom, 

Zavija strašno kada naleti na vrh kamena,


Beloglavi Sup, pero belo - oko strahovito! 


Pogled sa visine: 


Velika grupa lešinara, izgubljeno leti na sve strane ovih dana, 

Jedni na jednu - drugi na drugu stranu,

Đavo tačno zna, šta im dešava.





"Beloglavi Sup" Photography by Sebastian Sava Gor



Keywords: Ishod Na Nišanu, Geometric Body ,Corps géométrique,  New Book, Nova Knjiga, Book of Poetry, Knjiga Poezije, Literature Posts, Književnost, Literatura, poetry lovers, poetry is not dead, poetry community, Thanks foCuerpo geométrico, r Readingsebastian sava gor. poezija koja diše, čitaj poeziju, smiri se poezijom, poezija koja se čita, Zbirka Poezije, Sava Gor, Poezija, poetry lovers, poetry is not dead, Book, Poetry Collection, Literatura, Literature, Literature Posts, Književnost, Knjiga Poezije, poetry, poésie, поэзия, poesie, čitaj poeziju, pesme, un livre, poésie, collection of poetry. un recueil de poésie, poetry that breathes, read poetry, calm down with poetry, poetry that is read, , poezija, poetry, read poetry, poems, a book, poetry, collection of poetry. a poetry collection, књига, поезија,себастиан Сава гор. поезија која дише, читај поезију, смири се поезијом, поезија која се чита, Збирка Поезије, Сава Гор, Поезија, љубитељи поезије, поезија није мртва, Књига, Песничка збирка, Литература, Књижевност, Књижевни постови, Књижевност, Књига Поезије, читај поезију, песме, збирка поезије. Ishod Na Nišanu, New Book, Nova Knjiga, Book of Poetry, KNjiga Poezije, LiteraturePosts, Književnost, Literatura, poetry lovers, poetry is not dead, poetry community,Тачка и Дуж, Point and Length, Point et longueur, Beloglavi Sup, Vautour fauve  

Thanks for Reading



четвртак, 28. октобар 2021.

Bela Mačka: "Za Tebe I Za Nju" 19 - Zbirka Poezije | Poetry Collection | Recueil de poésie | poezija | poetry | poésie

 


Bela Mačka:

 "Za Tebe I Za Nju" 

19



Vaše bezbrižno jutro i topli odjek snova

Milost Vam stvara oreole

Neka traje beskrajno Vaša velika romansa

Zapljuskuje je nežno, morska pena,

I dodiruju je male dečije ruke,

Gledaju zelene, sjajne oči,

U njima ste Vi, pesak i zebra...


Praiskonski zviždik Vas zove u božanski prostor

Gde ćete dobiti najnoviji oblik i dar

Za tebe i za nju,

Za Život Sveta 


Čuvajte taj poklon. Čuvajte taj mir.




"Van Sebe" Crtež 


   


Movies by Books: "The Shining " Novel by Stephen King 1997 - Movie by Stanley Kubrick 1980 - psychological horror



 "The Shining "
NOVEL




The Shining is a 1977 horror novel by American author Stephen King. It is King's third published novel and first hardback bestseller; its success firmly established King as a preeminent author in the horror genre. The setting and characters are influenced by King's personal experiences, including both his visit to The Stanley Hotel in 1974 and his struggle with alcoholism. The novel was adapted into a 1980 film of the same name. The book was followed by a sequel, Doctor Sleep, published in 2013, which was adapted into a film of the same name.



The Shining centers on the life of Jack Torrance, a struggling writer and recovering alcoholic who accepts a position as the off-season caretaker of the historic Overlook Hotel in the Colorado Rockies. His family accompanies him on this job, including his young son Danny Torrance, who possesses "the shining", an array of psychic abilities that allow Danny to see the hotel's horrific past. Soon, after a winter storm leaves them snowbound, the supernatural forces inhabiting the hotel influence Jack's sanity, leaving his wife and son in incredible danger.


stephen king doctor sleep overlook hotel jack torrance much better stanley kubrick jack nicholson king at his best must read ever read highly recommend son danny





Stephen Edwin King (born September 21, 1947) is an American author of horror, supernatural fiction, suspense, crime, science-fiction, and fantasy novels. His books have sold more than 350 million copies, and many have been adapted into films, television series, miniseries, and comic books. King has published 63 novels, including seven under the pen name Richard Bachman, and five non-fiction books. He has also written approximately 200 short stories, most of which have been published in book collections.





King has received Bram Stoker Awards, World Fantasy Awards, and British Fantasy Society Awards. In 2003, the National Book Foundation awarded him the Medal for Distinguished Contribution to American Letters. He has also received awards for his contribution to literature for his entire bibliography, such as the 2004 World Fantasy Award for Life Achievement and the 2007 Grand Master Award from the Mystery Writers of America. In 2015, he was awarded with a National Medal of Arts from the U.S. National Endowment for the Arts for his contributions to literature. He has been described as the "King of Horror", a play on his surname and a reference to his high standing in pop culture.


 "The Shining "
MOVIE

The Shining is a 1980 psychological horror film produced and directed by Stanley Kubrick and co-written with novelist Diane Johnson. The film is based on Stephen King's 1977 novel of the same name and stars Jack Nicholson, Shelley Duvall, Scatman Crothers, and Danny Lloyd.

The film's central character is Jack Torrance (Nicholson), an aspiring writer and recovering alcoholic who accepts a position as the off-season caretaker of the isolated historic Overlook Hotel in the Colorado Rockies, with his wife, Wendy Torrance (Duvall), and young son, Danny Torrance (Lloyd). Danny is gifted with "the shining", psychic abilities that enable him to see into the hotel's horrific past. After a winter storm leaves the Torrances snowbound, Jack's sanity deteriorates due to the influence of the supernatural forces that inhabit the hotel.

The Shining (film)

Production took place almost exclusively at EMI Elstree Studios, with sets based on real locations. Kubrick often worked with a small crew, which allowed him to do many takes, sometimes to the exhaustion of the actors and staff. The new Steadicam mount was used to shoot several scenes, giving the film an innovative and immersive look and feel. There has been much speculation about the meanings and actions in the film because of inconsistencies, ambiguities, symbolism, and differences from the book.

The film was released in the United States on May 23, 1980, and in the United Kingdom on October 2, 1980, by Warner Bros. There were several versions for theatrical releases, each of which was cut shorter than the one preceding it; about 27 minutes were cut in total. Reactions to the film at the time of its release were mixed; Stephen King criticized the film due to its deviations from the novel. Critical opinion has become more favorable, with the film now widely considered one of the greatest and most influential horror films ever made and a staple of pop culture. In 2018, the film was selected for preservation in the United States National Film Registry by the Library of Congress as being "culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant". Thirty-nine years later, a sequel, Doctor Sleep, was released on November 8, 2019.


Directed by Stanley Kubrick

Screenplay by Stanley Kubrick, Diane Johnson

Based on The Shining by Stephen King

Produced by Stanley Kubrick

Starring:

Jack Nicholson
Shelley Duvall
Scatman Crothers
Danny Lloyd

Cinematography: John Alcott

Edited by Ray Lovejoy

Music by Wendy Carlos, Rachel Elkind

Production companies
The Producer Circle Company
Peregrine Productions
Hawk Films

Distributed by
Warner Bros. (United States)
Columbia-EMI-Warner Distributors (United Kingdom)

Release date
May 23, 1980 (United States)
October 2, 1980 (United Kingdom)
Running time
146 minutes (premiere)
144 minutes (American)
119 minutes (European)

   Countries
United States
United Kingdom
Language English
Budget $19 million
Box office $47 million






“Heeere’s Johnny!”
Prepare to enter a ghostly time warp of madness and murder in The Shining. This thriller tells the story of Jack Torrance, a writer and unemployed teacher who signs on as winter caretaker at an isolated Colorado hotel. Hoping that the arrangement will cure his writer's block and help repair his family life, Jack settles in with his wife and son, who is soon tormented by psychic premonitions. As Jack’s writing goes nowhere and his son’s visions become more and more disturbing, the man begins to unravel into a homicidal maniac bent on scaring his family to death.




Trivia

Stephen King got the idea for the original story during a family vacation at the Stanley Hotel in Estes Park, Colorado.

Jack Nicholson ad-libbed the infamous movie line, “Heeere’s Johnny!”

Six-year-old Danny Lloyd was so protected during filming that he didn’t realize he was making a horror movie. He didn’t see the uncut version of the film until 11 years after it was made.



The snowy maze at the end of the film was made using 900 tons of salt and crushed Styrofoam.

The Shining was one of the first movies to be filmed using the Steadicam (a camera stabilizer invented by Garrett Brown).



    Soundtrack: 




Things You Didn't Know About the Making of 'the Shining'






среда, 27. октобар 2021.

Ishod Na Nišanu: Tačka i Duž 19 | Zbirka Poezije | Poetry Collection | Recueil de poésie | poezija | poetry | poésie



Ishod Na Meti:

"Tačka i Duž" 



Nije propao još jedan dan,


Prošla je misaona vizita, sve je isto kao i juče,


Viskoki napon u prstima, šetaš u krugovima,


Ima te, nema te,


Misliš i deluješ, misliš i nestaješ,


Malopre je prošla vrućina, sada ti je zima i mrkli je mrak,


Ti si potpuno sama…


Ništa od igre, to nije tvoje kolo,


Misli mirno, misli apstraktno,


Nula je večnost u nizu beskonačnosti,


Jedinica to sam ja, dva to si ti, tri to smo mi,


Zločin i kazna, crno i belo, vidljivo i nevidljivo,


Misli dalje neobuzdano,


Prava linija je prostor, kriva linija je vreme,


Tačka i duž... od mene - ka tebi - do njega…na dalje… 





"Svetionik" Photography:

 Sebastian Sava Gor (exexsebastian) - Profile | Pinterest



Keywords: Ishod Na Nišanu, Geometric Body ,Corps géométrique,  New Book, Nova Knjiga, Book of Poetry, Knjiga Poezije, Literature Posts, Književnost, Literatura, poetry lovers, poetry is not dead, poetry community, Thanks foCuerpo geométrico, r Readingsebastian sava gor. poezija koja diše, čitaj poeziju, smiri se poezijom, poezija koja se čita, Zbirka Poezije, Sava Gor, Poezija, poetry lovers, poetry is not dead, Book, Poetry Collection, Literatura, Literature, Literature Posts, Književnost, Knjiga Poezije, poetry, poésie, поэзия, poesie, čitaj poeziju, pesme, un livre, poésie, collection of poetry. un recueil de poésie, poetry that breathes, read poetry, calm down with poetry, poetry that is read, , poezija, poetry, read poetry, poems, a book, poetry, collection of poetry. a poetry collection, књига, поезија,себастиан Сава гор. поезија која дише, читај поезију, смири се поезијом, поезија која се чита, Збирка Поезије, Сава Гор, Поезија, љубитељи поезије, поезија није мртва, Књига, Песничка збирка, Литература, Књижевност, Књижевни постови, Књижевност, Књига Поезије, читај поезију, песме, збирка поезије. Ishod Na Nišanu, New Book, Nova Knjiga, Book of Poetry, KNjiga Poezije, LiteraturePosts, Književnost, Literatura, poetry lovers, poetry is not dead, poetry community,Тачка и Дуж, Point and Length, Point et longueur, Thanks for Reading


Exhibition, Book of Lithographs , Music Edition: David Lynch - "The Air Is On Fire" (2007) | Book & Music Album | "l'Art Contemporain" Exhibition, Series of Lithographs, Music Edition





The first major collection of artwork by the acclaimed movie director David Lynch.

Spanning a period of forty years, David Lynch's widely respected films and television series include Eraserhead, The Elephant Man, Blue Velvet, Twin Peaks, Lost Highway, and Mulholland Drive. However, his prolific visual art production, which began even before his films, has rarely been seen.

This catalogue of his artistic output, published on the occasion of a large-scale exhibition at the Fondation Cartier in Paris, covers a wide variety of disciplines: painting, photography, drawings, sculpture, furniture, music, and "moving pictures." His art echoes his films in theme and aesthetic, yet offers viewers a fresh and more intimate glimpse into his singular universe. The book also contains several essays that analyze his artworks, as well as a conversation with Lynch, interviewed within the context of the show. 469 illustrations in color.








The Air Is on Fire was a retrospective on the art work of artist and filmmaker David Lynch using themes from his childhood, adolescent, and adult life. It ran from the February 24 to May 27, 2007 at the Fondation Cartier pour l'Art Contemporain in Paris. The exhibition was also presented in 2009 in Moscow, Russia, updated with a series of lithographs made in 2007–8.



The exhibition was later shown at Gl Strand in Copenhagen, Denmark from September 26, 2010 to January 16, 2011.

The soundscape accompanying the exhibition was released as a CD in 2007. It was subsequently reissued on vinyl through Sacred Bone Records on the Record Store Day of 2014




Ishod Na Nišanu: "Neopisiva Posledica" 02 | Zbirka Poezije | Poetry Collection | Recueil de poésie | poezija | poetry | poésie


Ishod Na Nišanu:
"Neopisiva Posledica"  



Nizvodno se kreće telo, pluta, plavo i naduveno,

Neke ptice stoje na njemu, kljucaju i kidaju plutajuću mrcinu,

Nečiji život nosi reka,

Sa svim sećanjima i uspomenama,

Jedan dobrovoljan skok i otvorila se prazna praznina,

Bila je to idealna bajka do određenog trenutka,

Danas nema više puno spasonosnih, dušebrižnih ideja,

Pao je tron,

Pauk je mislio da je završio svoju neraskidivu i nevidljivu mrežu,

Radioaktivna buba se od nečega uplašila i sakrila,

Kometa je zatim tako snažno udarila…kataklizma….

Neopisiva posledica…




 "Avalski Toranj"  Photography: Sebastian Sava Gor


Keywords: Ishod Na Nišanu, Geometric Body ,Corps géométrique,  New Book, Nova Knjiga, Book of Poetry, Knjiga Poezije, Literature Posts, Književnost, Literatura, poetry lovers, poetry is not dead, poetry community, Thanks foCuerpo geométrico, r Readingsebastian sava gor. poezija koja diše, čitaj poeziju, smiri se poezijom, poezija koja se čita, Zbirka Poezije, Sava Gor, Poezija, poetry lovers, poetry is not dead, Book, Poetry Collection, Literatura, Literature, Literature Posts, Književnost, Knjiga Poezije, poetry, poésie, поэзия, poesie, čitaj poeziju, pesme, un livre, poésie, collection of poetry. un recueil de poésie, poetry that breathes, read poetry, calm down with poetry, poetry that is read, , poezija, poetry, read poetry, poems, a book, poetry, collection of poetry. a poetry collection, књига, поезија,себастиан Сава гор. поезија која дише, читај поезију, смири се поезијом, поезија која се чита, Збирка Поезије, Сава Гор, Поезија, љубитељи поезије, поезија није мртва, Књига, Песничка збирка, Литература, Књижевност, Књижевни постови, Књижевност, Књига Поезије, читај поезију, песме, збирка поезије. Ishod Na Nišanu, New Book, Nova Knjiga, Book of Poetry, KNjiga Poezije, LiteraturePosts, Književnost, Literatura, poetry lovers, poetry is not dead, poetry community,
Neopisiva Posledica ,Conséquence indescriptible , Indescribable Consequence
Thanks for Reading

понедељак, 25. октобар 2021.

Ishod Na Nišanu: "Geometrijsko Telo" | Zbirka Poezije | Poetry Collection | Recueil de poésie | poezija | poetry | poésie

 

Ishod Na Nišanu





Geometrijsko Telo


Crna, gusta mast

Kaplje, kap po kap

Po obrazu...


Sve je nalik na nečiju lošu zabavu

U raznim oblicima

Kroz neprocenjeni, procenat

Odnosa života i smrti

U lopti, helikodu

Kupi ili poliedru

Svejedno, ali mora biti uvek i ponovo novo

Isto a različito

Odvojeno a zajedno

Na svim delovima hemisphere u isto vreme...


U zamahu

U kamenu i gvožđu

U mentalnoj iscrpljenosti i  grču

Ali, uvek na visini zadatka, u samoodbrani...


Tu gde su pali brojevi

U nedoumici nad slomljenim staklom...


Usled iznenadnog udara dijaboličnog predmeta...


Što je bio neočekivani susret

Starog i novog doba

Neba i slogana

Ovo je naša planeta, ovo je naša Zemlja...



Photography: Sebastian Sava Gor


*








Keywords: Ishod Na Nišanu, Geometric Body ,Corps géométrique,  New Book, Nova Knjiga, Book of Poetry, Knjiga Poezije, Literature Posts, Književnost, Literatura, poetry lovers, poetry is not dead, poetry community, Thanks foCuerpo geométrico, r Readingsebastian sava gor. poezija koja diše, čitaj poeziju, smiri se poezijom, poezija koja se čita, Zbirka Poezije, Sava Gor, Poezija, poetry lovers, poetry is not dead, Book, Poetry Collection, Literatura, Literature, Literature Posts, Književnost, Knjiga Poezije, poetry, poésie, поэзия, poesie, čitaj poeziju, pesme, un livre, poésie, collection of poetry. un recueil de poésie, poetry that breathes, read poetry, calm down with poetry, poetry that is read, , poezija, poetry, read poetry, poems, a book, poetry, collection of poetry. a poetry collection, књига, поезија,себастиан Сава гор. поезија која дише, читај поезију, смири се поезијом, поезија која се чита, Збирка Поезије, Сава Гор, Поезија, љубитељи поезије, поезија није мртва, Књига, Песничка збирка, Литература, Књижевност, Књижевни постови, Књижевност, Књига Поезије, читај поезију, песме, збирка поезије. Ishod Na Nišanu, New Book, Nova Knjiga, Book of Poetry, KNjiga Poezije, LiteraturePosts, Književnost, Literatura, poetry lovers, poetry is not dead, poetry community, Thanks for Reading


петак, 22. октобар 2021.

Spontano Sagorevanje: Po Jutru Se Dan Poznaje | Zbirka Kratkih Priča | Une collection d'histoires courtes | A Collection of Short Stories

 


Spontano Sagorevanje: 

"Po Jutru Se Dan Poznaje" 

35




„Po jutru se dan poznaje!“ – reče Radomir, ispi ostatak rakijice, udari ženi šamar, za svaki slučaj, otvori vrata, pljunu ispred sopstvenog praga i izađe u polje. 

Po još mraznoj zemlji, na svom propalom polju on dođe do "strašila“, koje se raspadalo. Strašilo je visilo na dve ukrštene motke, imalo je pocepnano odelo, bez slame, zakucano na motke i debelu kožnu glavu, napravljenu  od stare lopte, ofarbane u crveno, sa belim očima, takođe zakucanu za dasku. Strašilo je imalo nacrtan i beli osmeh, nos nije imalo. 

Radomir stade ispred strašila pa poče vikati na njega: „Sve manje se ljudi smeju a i ja se sve manje smejem, a ti se ceriš po ceo dan noć! Nisam trebao taj osmeh da ti nakačim! – On besno izvadi kutiju šibica iz džepa i zapali strašilo: „Gori nakazo, sutra ću da napravim, drugo, lepše strašilo, u novom odelu i bez osmeha, sa realnim pogledom na svet!“. 

Tako zaključi Radomir, pa se uputi drumom sa namerom da ode do kafane. Na uskom seoskom putu, okružen kukuruzom, Radomir se opustio za trenutak, ali tada ču poznato mu zviždukanje, cijukanje, dahtanje koje liči na hrkanje i on u daljini ugleda staru babu, kako mu se priblžava. 

„Ona prokleta baba...moram da se sklonim...ta njena ruka – što joj je izrasla iz kuka...prokletinja jedna...“ 

Radomir se uplaši i kroz stabljike kukuruza pobeže u šumu. 

U šumi pravo nalete na medveda i ovaj ga obori jednim udarcem šape u glavu. 

Na sreću je ostao živ, ali više nije to onaj isti Radomir, tako kažu, sada ide, dosta hoda ali brzo zaboravi gde je krenuo i gde se našao, brka levu i desnu stranu ali i još puno toga, znate već za takve promene kod ljudi ali  najbitnije je da je on čvrst, da uvek nešto radi, priča sa ptičicama i nasmejan je, zadovoljan sobom i svetom koji ga okružuje. Ženu više nikada nije udario niti je povisio ton na nju, čak je počeo da joj donosi cveće. Jednom rečju sasvim drugi Radomir. 




Sebastian Sava Gor

Photography: Sebastian Sava Gor



Keywords: Spontano Sagorevanje, Puste Želje, Pusti Snovi. Empty Desires, Empty Dreams, Désirs vides, rêves vides, Désirs vides, rêve vide,  Kratkih Priča, Une Collection D'histoires Courtes, A Collection of Short Stories, Spontaneous Combustion, Combustion Spontanée, kratka priča, short story, histoire courte, nadrealizam, teatar apsurda. surréalisme théâtredelabsurde theateroftheabsurd iracionalizam avantgarde avangarda irrationalism, irrationalisme, subconscious, subconscient, superconscious, supraconscient, novel, novela knjiga, new book, književnost, literature, literature posts, literatura, comedy, komične priče, smešne,priče, funnystories, surrealism, nadrealizam, crazy story, dark humor, weird story, Спонтано СагоревањеЗбирка Кратких Прича, Збирка Уне Д'хистоирес Цоуртес, Збирка кратких прича, Спонтано сагоревање, Спонтане сагоревања, кратка прича, кратка прича, историја курта, надреализам, театар апсурда. сурреалисме тхеатределабсурде тхеатерофтхеабсурд ирационализам авантгарде авангарда ирационализам, ирационализам, подсвест, подсвесно, надсвесно, суперсвесно, роман, новела књига, нова књига, књижевност, књижевност, књижевни постови, књижевност, комедија, комичне приче, смешне, приче, смешни, приче, смешни, приче луда прича, мрачни хумор, чудна прича, Po Jutru Se Dan Poznaje, In the Morning the Day is Known


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TETRALOGIJA SVESTI: “Od Zmaja do Sagorevanja” - jerođakon. Aleksandar Subotić

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