Phantom Thread (2017)

He rises again from his rest, another day upon the many. He brushes his hair, tucks in his pristine white shirt, checks over himself, and ensures all is exact and perfect.
Do memories haunt him? Past visions and past relations; lost family…embedded into the smooth walls, into the garments; whisper less secrets, silent.
Light shines through the window; a healing light?
It is Reynolds Woodcock, high-class fashion designer in the 1950’s, watching over the fashion house ‘House of Woodcock’.

Reynolds life is completely planned as he wanted, to every minute detail; silence at breakfast, no surprises, everything booked in time. For, that is how he likes it, how he must have it; his life works around his schedule, and it is delicately so; one brick removed, and all could all come crashing down.

Yet…

That brick will be thrown out anew, for it will turn into gold.

The calm and collected man is shocked into emotions beyond him, into emotions that hide from him, weaved through is very halls and rooms, hidden in his heart but wanting to burst and fly. His heat is locked in a prison, and wants to escape; the waiting builds it up to excruciating lengths.
It will be released, for Alma, the hidden dark horse, the calling of his soul and love; his romance and endless dreams, transfigured into a living, breathing thing.

And so he falls into the abyss of purple love…

Because love tear our souls, yet also heal it; it can throw us into disarray, where any hope of the life before it has disappeared…gone…
Love, that can push us through barriers and drive us to the edge; from whence we may never have stepped otherwise.

His life now is one of confusion and cathartic emotion; of trying to glimpse the truth, but falling…

Life…

The endless layers; the endless ways to translate the scenes; to be watched again, to feel that emotion again…a different one each time.

Textures upon textures, echoes of Szinbad; the extreme closeness, the rustle of fabric, the colour of food, the tears welling in the eyes…

An invisible and never-ending web slowly threading between us; the web of Love and Passion. .

We all try to reach for it…

written by Sebastian Karamyar

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