Artistic License Sneered Through The Thin Fabric.

I Am So 100 Percent Swedish... Someone Has Said A Swede Is Like A Bottle Of Ketchup - Nothing And Nothing And Then All At Once - Splat. I Think I'm A Little Like That.

The World Is A Den Of Thieves, And Night Is Falling. Evil Breaks Its Chains And Runs Through The World Like A Mad Dog. The Poison Affects Us All. No One Escapes. Therefore Let Us Be Happy While We Are Happy. Let Us Be Kind, Generous, Affectionate And Good. It Is Necessary And Not At All Shameful To Take Pleasure In The Little World.

Then I Felt That Every Inflection Of My Voice, Every Word In My Mouth, Was A Lie, A Play Whose Sole Purpose Was To Cover Emptiness And Boredom. There Was Only One Way I Could Avoid A State Of Despair And A Breakdown. To Be Silent. And To Reach Behind The Silence For Clarity Or At Least Try To Collect The Resources That Might Still Be Available To Me.

My Basic View Of Things Is - Not To Have Any Basic View Of Things. From Having Been Exceedingly Dogmatic, My Views On Life Have Gradually Dissolved. They Don't Exist Any Longer.

No Other Art-medium–neither Painting Nor Poetry–can Communicate The Specific Quality Of The Dream As Well As The Film Can. When The Lights Go Down In The Cinema And This White Shining Point Opens Up For Us, Our Gaze Stops Flitting Hither And Thither, Settles And Becomes Quite Steady. We Just Sit There, Letting The Images Flow Out Over Us. Our Will Ceases To Function. We Lose Our Ability To Sort Things Out And Fix Them In Their Proper Places. We're Drawn Into A Course Of Events–we're Participants In A Dream. And Manufacturing Dreams, That's A Juicy Business.