Wherever there is light, spurts of darkening casts interrupt an evolving chemistry, where the potential for a spark remains on the verge of being ignited. Fashion is composed of many stories, dreams, and tales that are dressed by creators’ visions to enhance a level of vitality, as some pieces of clothing do when enveloping the body. The sentiments that are evoked through any type of artistic form infiltrate our minds through the visual dynamics of familiarity and anonymity, facilitating an emotional response to a non-traditionally defined plot.
In the case of films, most of the material suggests a direct plot, structured to project a more or less obvious conclusion. Therefore, the general audience has developed a habit, which has alienated the possibility for an unusual experience that would otherwise involve the viewer’s attentive behavior in a range of ways. Charlie Wan’s short fashion film entitled, Lean On Me, explodes the circumference of one’s pupils, pulling emotions back and forth, like the duo dancing to a melody that tugs at each extremity of a silent human conversation.
The bodies follow and lead each other through a romantic language that leaves room for curiosity, mystery and imagination. The relationship in motion explores a sense of separation upon the crimson door that both man and woman accept to bare the weight of, hoping to find the key to liberation.
As the door rotates, an opening closes, and the camera has denied the access to the assumption that a moment of escape into unison exists. A dramatic feeling covers the white chiffon dress, provoking the continuous movement between lovers whose hands chase one another’s touch, desired even for the figment of an instance. And when the door disappears, the couple caresses on a platform of interchanging light and shadow, revealing the presence of mortality within the ongoing battle to love and be loved. Tangled through acrobats, all is silently revealed in a field of motion and meant to be lost within the fragments of times past– love is left moving toward the infinite unknown.
No element of nature, reconstructed by man, can blind my sight.
Clouds of darkness may cover your figure, but the tips of my fingers will illuminate the aisle for you, and my whispers will guide you out towards my lonely bones.
The thought of you I easily hold onto, as I climb the peak where our love is taking you.
I fear to never reach the top, and reminisce on times where our bodies danced through the air, pressing foreheads, and running through a labyrinth of shared dreams.
Strong hearts are fondled by time, but there are no such limitations in a passion as resilient as the speech of emotion within time.