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my trip to china (june/july 2011). edited in northfield, mn (@carleton college). produced by asianetwork. original score by danny cohen. a film by josiah burns. freestyle. original score. a meditation on visual religious cultures in sichuan, yunnan, et al.
"Shangrila - English Voice Over"
Shanghai. One loves the city of lights that never shuts with night’s frights. That paris of the east fights the wire bearing words from inside. I never sleep cuz sleep stops at time and death. I bleed red with that hypothetical taxi ride that spars the boat in the bay. They say these things waiting for the tapestry in shangrila.
The orange and green with kiku when you fall on the side with the kings and their beards. It might be round like an orange. Its weird in rainbows but pain goes well without sun. The white cat knows the way. Then the lilies sit in tilt shift astigmatism with all these isms swimming in our head’s gymnasiums beyond beds offline.
Distort the leave I believe in film dreams but only when they ride and deride suicide when it senses the blue dot atop his shoe. Whenever the yellow king rises in the moby sun never cries over me.
The white elephant in the room, his groom the giant buddah. That day there was no quake or any mistake when the tornadoes tried to drain the tears. But dehydration in this nation of eden, eating Chengdu in the valley of la.
The rest was silence until the clouds of northern spirits used the lens, baby. In the valley my mother is a fish, I wish. When solaris sees radiated stars I pause.
Wow I don’t like this apocalypse now too red for my eyes I might just cry because the 4th of july leaves beats my pies in the sky.
In hubei with the canadians the beer appears with chance and undead cockroaches. Sichuan. The heart of the Beijing I never saw enough to draw. When I had to close my eyes freedom fries flew never about the temple. But forget the obamantion of obama’s word association nation these pains be in our past at last.
The incense inside the cockroach flies above Madagascar. Marker comes back in Chongqing. And then back to the green machine the Chengdu gardes the empires. No more earthquake that I could feel in the car on npr when I was barely eighteen. Too young to have seen that stuff on TV. Lin might be winning but sins aren’t sinning.
I felt the queen earth shake that day when I say that stillmatic gunsmoke awoke and choked my lungs. But he never got frustrated. Or hijacked delta.
Toad’s place in Yunnan. Miao says mao to the miao church of mao and he does nothing. Who knows where they go to church. Probably under the birch trees outside one love in Sichuan.
I feel my pawn has gone somewhere in Sichuan aboard this bus I must make the long take still life. A 12 minute city to infinity and beyond the tao with miao’s vowels in my mind I freestyle it’s not wild. Nothing about the bus anymore.
To Kunming, the grey red king. In tilt shift hdr it’s all just stars at the ktv down the street so sweet inside the cellphone. It’s wired from Chongqing to Sichuan my style switches like a maggot j to b inside that not intellectual bisexual nevermind…
Aboard the train these pains from the lower right side. I might forget this ride with the police inside my head. Shanghai all in the lights but not too bright we check the stocks it’s not 911 when hal jumps from the ibm machine. Kunming. Shangrila.
(Sings a song)
jtburns (at) ucsc (dot) edu
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josiah (bu zhou xia)
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