Vraag het paswoord en info over films aan bij Brecht van Elslande (brecht.vanelslande@hogent.be)

For passwords or Information on films and filmmakers contact Brecht van Elslande (brecht.vanelslande@hogent.be)

Tuesday, September 21, Helene Van den Broeck (2024)

graduation 2024 master animatiefilm

NL

Ze rook naar een mengeling van drank, zweet en sigarettenrook, maar dat maakte voor mij niet uit. Ik hoopte dat die geur voor altijd in mijn neusgaten vast zou blijven zitten. Haar lippen waren teder en ze smaakte naar vodka-cola en verlangen. Het verlangen naar aanraking. Het verlangen naar intimiteit.
Het was het eerste wat echt voelde in een anderhalf jaar van binnenzitten en afstand houden. Met elk contact smolten we meer en meer in elkaar. En met elk contact vreesde ik meer en meer het moment dat we ons van elkaar zouden moeten losmaken.
Ik wilde niet dat ze weg ging, want met haar voelde alles intenser. De lichten straalden harder en de muziek werd helderder.
Zij bracht kleur. Weg waren de dagen van desaturatie. Het was alsof er al anderhalf jaar een mist over het leven hing en zij deze met één enkele aanraking had verdreven.
Zij leek niet echt, met huid die zacht was als katoen en ogen die leken op edelstenen.
Zij bracht hoop op een toekomst zonder afstand en regels.
Zij was een wervelwind, waarin Ik opgeslokt wou worden.
Zij was een wolk van hemelsblauw en Ik voelde me gemaakt van roze.
Samen maakten we een diep, prachtig paars.

EN

She smelled like a mixture of booze, sweat, and cigarette smoke, but that didn’t matter to me. I hoped that smell would be stuck in my nostrils forever. Her lips were tender, and she tasted of vodka cola and desire. The desire for touch.
The desire for intimacy.
It was the first thing that felt real in a year and a half of sitting inside and keeping my distance. With each contact, we melted more and more into each other. And with each contact, I feared more and more the moment when we would have to separate.
I didn’t want her to leave because everything felt more intense with her. The lights shone brighter and the music grew louder.
She brought color. Gone were the days of desaturation. It was as if a fog had hung over my life for a year and a half, and she had dissipated it with a single touch.
She didn’t look real, with skin as soft as cotton and eyes like jewels.
She brought hope for a future without distance and rules.
She was a whirlwind in which I wanted to be swallowed up.
She was a cloud of sky blue and I felt like I was made of pink.
Together we made a deep, beautiful purple.

EN

She smelled like a mixture of booze, sweat, and cigarette smoke, but that didn’t matter to me. I hoped that smell would be stuck in my nostrils forever. Her lips were tender, and she tasted of vodka cola and desire. The desire for touch.
The desire for intimacy.
It was the first thing that felt real in a year and a half of sitting inside and keeping my distance. With each contact, we melted more and more into each other. And with each contact, I feared more and more the moment when we would have to separate.
I didn’t want her to leave because everything felt more intense with her. The lights shone brighter and the music grew louder.
She brought color. Gone were the days of desaturation. It was as if a fog had hung over my life for a year and a half, and she had dissipated it with a single touch.
She didn’t look real, with skin as soft as cotton and eyes like jewels.
She brought hope for a future without distance and rules.
She was a whirlwind in which I wanted to be swallowed up.
She was a cloud of sky blue and I felt like I was made of pink.
Together we made a deep, beautiful purple.