sombr – Homewrecker

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Near-black first. Underexposed ground — dark reddish-brown dirt, mulch, vegetation that reads like a night forest floor. Nobody yet.

After that a figure crouches low in a grassy dirt field at night, torso leaned forward, arms toward the ground, back mostly to camera — looks like sombr (Shane). Deep red-orange sidelight from the left throws long shadows across uneven grass. Light long-sleeve jacket or sweater, dark pants. He goes prone face-down on dirt and sparse grass under the same warm red wash; the light shirt reads orange under the key. Two figures lie motionless on the field — one farther up an incline — until the frame finds a large dark-red stain that looks like blood across the back of a white shirt on the foreground body. Face-down again on a hillside, arms slightly out, mountains silhouetted against an orange-magenta-purple sunset while warm orange-red light still keys from the left.

You catch the line without a lyric card: “I don’t wanna be a homewrecker”

A woman with long dark wavy hair stands with her back to camera and gazes left across misty grass toward jagged mountain silhouettes under orange-pink-purple dusk. Low white mist rides the dark field. Next the pair: sombr stands in desert plains dusk looking off right; she leans against his left shoulder and back, right hand on his chest, looking toward camera — mountains and orange-magenta-indigo sky behind them, warm golden-hour light from the right.

Yellow HOMEWRECKER fills the center. He holds her close, stoic, wavy dark hair off right; she — Black, long dark hair — leans back with her head on his chest. Desert mountain dusk, deep blue into orange and pink.

Three women walk a dusty Western town dirt road toward camera — tan/cream long dress on the left, reddish-pink dress and dark boots in the middle, white dress with shawl or cape on the right — while a man on horseback rides deeper into town behind them. Sombr stands center facing camera, neutral and solemn, dark shaggy neck-length hair, what looks like an acoustic guitar at his waist; a large square canvas behind him shows a jagged snow mountain under overcast sky, crumbling stone-ruin walls and arched openings in brown haze. He rides through the town at golden hour looking off right, a small stick in the corner of his mouth that looks like a toothpick or match, two-story wood building with four-pane window and cross-rail balcony behind, green trees and pale blue sky.

A Black woman stands on a porch clasping her hands at her waist, stoic. A cowboy in profile with a dark mustache — looks like sombr in period costume — faces left; two men sit a bench against the wood wall, one in black suit and black wide-brim hat.

Performance cuts punch through the Western. Waist-up he sings mouth open into a handheld corded mic, right hand to mouth, left on the cable, mountain snow-peak backdrop and dark textured plaster with a small arched alcove. Same dusty high-ceiling stone room: thin red cable, head slightly down, a bright god-ray from a small upper-right window cutting haze and dust with lens flare, mountain-landscape tapestry above stone steps. He walks toward camera stoic with the toothpick still in his lips past out-of-focus western wooden storefronts in harsh daylight — light-tan wide-brim cowboy hat, pinched crown, feather or organic band, soft flare on the crown.

Over his shoulder under a dark wood porch, two women stand side-by-side looking toward him; a vertical wall sign reads BEDS 15¢ and ROOMS 25¢, 50¢, 75¢. He watches as they walk past the building, the lead woman with a slight smile. Motion-blur profile he walks past the porch while a mustached man under the roof watches near swinging saloon doors, leather holster on his hip; two men sit the bench against plank wall, one in black hat looking toward him, a large wood barrel far left.

Close on the Black woman: eyes closed, head tilted down, pensive, lips slightly parted, warm amber key from the right on cheek, nose, and collarbone, deep shadow left — beige wall and textured linen or burlap curtain. Back to the stone room: he sings into the vintage handheld mic hunched and intense, god-ray still cutting haze, terracotta square tiles and white-reddish debris on the floor. Four full silhouettes against streaked orange-pink-purple sunset — one in wide-brim hat and long coat mid-gesture, a pair partner-dancing close. He stands contemplative with a silver handheld mic near his chin beside the snow-capped tapestry. Two silhouettes low against layered dusk: one spinning with heavy motion blur, long hair whipped and skirt flaring; the other static back-to-camera in wide-brim cowboy hat and long duster past the knees, facing the horizon.

She enters through double arched doorway into a dim saloon, walking forward steady; he frames soft left looking across the room while two men near the door observe. Full-body in the cave-like stone hall he sings passionately, both hands on the vintage silver stand mic — dual bright god-rays from high arched openings cut thick haze across earth-brown walls and the mountain tapestry. At the dark wood bar he leans both arms on the counter looking right as she walks toward him with a slight smile and ornate updo; crowded patrons fill tables — brown wide-brim and red neckerchief, cowboy and bowler hats. He leans over the bar earnest, open hand mid-air, other hand on her forearm on the counter; she smiles warm behind the bar. He holds her right hand with both of his on the counter, intense gaze; she leans back against the bar with a knowing look. Her bright wide smile — teeth, dimples — looks up affectionate while his out-of-focus head and shoulder frame the shot under warm amber candle-look light.

The song says it once, clean: “I just know I can be better”

The set breaks its own spell. Boom mic with grey windscreen hangs top-center; large white LED softbox; crew holds a white bounce behind the bar; he leans the bar toward a man in a grey blazer. Saloon action snaps back: he leans back against the wood reacting; the grey-blazer man turns with arm extended mid-reach toward him; a woman in Victorian dress watches; a bartender in black wide-brim watches. He gestures with index finger raised mid-talk while she leans the bar in lace gloves. He walks past in an ornate jacket, motion-blurred; the grey-blazer man holds a small rectangular card or photo at eye level. Medium: curly messy shoulder-length hair, slight smirk, patrons soft behind in dresses and waistcoats.

He sings again into the handheld mic before the snow-peak tapestry as warm haze and heavy flare wash half the frame. Lean-forward intense, mouth slight open, hand raised near collar — clear bottle neck soft in front, skillet on the wall. A man in a wood director chair leans hard pointing at a large black monitor, black over-ear headphones on. On a dusty Western street midday a couple kiss — his hand on her jaw and neck, eyes closed — looks like sombr in cowboy continuity; ASSAY OFFICE sign soft right. A woman who is not him poses with arm raised straight overhead by an arched dark-wood doorway. He leans hard intense, mouth open mid-speech, fingers curled at chest-level, cast-iron skillet on wood beside him.

A couple slow-dances in a rustic room — grey-blazer man looking down, hands on waist and joined; she in white fur stole smiles up. Near-kiss embrace by a dark-frame window and white sheer lace curtains. He leans aggressive into a silhouette man in a dark wide-brim hat — mouth open, eyes wide, mid-shout or plead.

High from a wooden balcony: two figures partly hidden by thick railing — looks like brown fringe jacket and companion in black sleeveless — while a woman in light blue-grey period dress walks the street below. On the balcony he and a Black woman with long straight center-part hair hold both hands face-to-face, intense eye contact, X-cross wood railing and plank floor, her look serious and mournful. He leans shoulder into a craggy stone wall holding the silver mic at chest and chin, eyes downcast, harsh left key casting hard shadow on textured wall.

On the dusty outdoor set he walks holding a black handheld camera-monitor or gimbal at the waist, looking up through dark sunglasses while crew gestures. High-angle: he looks up toward a balcony; a Black woman with long braids leans the second-story wood railing looking down; boom op in blue hoodie extends over him. On the balcony he holds an acoustic guitar, right hand raised in a gesture that looks like a thumbs-up. Back to performance: head against rough cracked plaster, vintage mic under chin, eyes closed somber, blown-out arched window left.

He reclines an ornate red tufted-velvet armchair looking up weary; a long-dark-hair silhouette reaches a hand onto his upper chest; a large white gauze bandage taped to his chest carries a heavy fresh red blood-stain at center — lace-curtain window and Rembrandt daylight. She stands profile gazing out a bright window somber, hand near sheer white lace. He lounges an ornate red button-tufted velvet sofa leaning back with a wide smile and laugh toward a silhouetted long-hair figure in a dark spindle-back chair backlit by bright window and white sheers.

Wooded clearing: he faces her three-quarter, dark jacket draped over his right shoulder; she smiles and laughs mouth open, hand to chest, sun-dappled grass and mature trees. Soft stand close — her very long straight black hair, pleasant look down. Wide under a massive gnarled oak: man and woman face each other mid-ground; a brown horse with white socks and face blaze stands fully Western-saddled under the oak. Five or more full silhouettes hold hands in a circle dance against dramatic sunset — wide-brim flat-top hat, skirts in motion, faces hidden so who is who stays unclear.

She looks out a multi-pane wood window contemplative, fingers on white scalloped lace curtain. He sits close looking at her attentive, black over-ear headphones around his neck; she in dark updo with loose curls, gentle smile. He leans into her ear whispering; she looks down with a broad genuine smile. Rustic cabin: he leans a dark wood wall by a window; she smiles warm facing him — plank walls, stone fireplace soft, white lace curtains.

Low-angle he sings into the handheld mic both hands, mouth open, head tilted back — hazy cavernous stone hall backlit by high windows, lens flare and glowing hair halo, heavy smoke beams. Closer: silver mic clasped near the mouth, eyes downcast. In the sun-dappled clearing he crowns her with a black cowboy hat, both arms raised playful; she smiles looking down holding the brim. He stands pensive by a weathered wood barn wall with peeling paint. He leans in close speaking to her; she answers with a slight knowing smile; black jacket draped over his shoulder; brown horse soft under leafy oaks. He turns sharp looking back over his shoulder, hand gripping the jacket, small dark tattoo on the inner right wrist. Through a multi-pane window from dark interior: they stand face-to-face mid-woods. Profile lean-in: dark wide-brim hat held against his chest earnest; she soft neutral to slight smile under tall trees.

The vocal cuts through the cut: “I don’t wanna talk down on your lover”

Night porch between takes: he leans a wood pillar, arm raised high on the post, smiling down at a blonde woman, tall white cup in his other hand; she leans the same pillar looking up with a broad smile. Extreme close: his face fills the frame staring straight into the lens, intense and unblinking, hard sharp diagonal shadow cutting forehead to nose to jaw, light stubble. He walks away along a Western wood boardwalk mid-stride tipping a wide-brim cowboy hat; SALOON and ASSAY OFFICE signs across packed dirt, wood storefronts, long sharp porch-pillar shadows. Empty dirt street — ASSAY OFFICE and partial bank sign across hitching rail and boardwalk.

Modern cut: he walks mid-stride profile through an open living room past floor-to-ceiling glass sliding doors, bright sunlit stone patio with lounge chairs and covered pavilion beyond, fireplace wall, dark TV mounted. Outdoor profile lean-forward mid-speech under strong sun. Close profile contemplative with motion blur on curls and jacket fringe, harsh rim light, warm arid terrain. Back-to-camera he gazes through black-frame glass doors into patio and pool — covered patio with wood ceiling fans and long dark dining table left, stone-tile path to pool and lush trees center.

Double-exposure: a large translucent Black woman with dark updo curls in profile dominates the frame; tiny horse-and-rider silhouette trots a dark scrub ridge beneath warm sepia haze. He sits a wooden spindle-back chair in a grassy field behind barbed-wire fence, head tilted up eyes closed — pink lace bra hanging the wire left, red-and-white patterned cloth hanging right. Intimate lean to her ear and neck; she looks off with a faint smile, winged eyeliner, stud earring. Night porch: he leans toward a woman holding rolled white paper that looks like a script, stares camera-wide surprised or caught. Night lunge thrusting a thick white stack of cash or papers forward under a cool overhead flood halo. Dark hazy interior: he leans forward pensive under white spotlight through thick volumetric haze. He sits the floor by a large glass door, head bowed, hands clasped somber — bright sunny patio beyond.

Silhouette center on a deserted Western dirt street, full backlit sun behind head and shoulders, golden-orange flare — looks like sombr — one-point dusty road, wood storefronts, porches, hitching posts, SALOON and OFFICE signs soft. An older man with grey-blonde full beard, long unkempt hair, and a black circular eyepatch over the left eye stares stern under harsh daylight. Low-angle standoff: fingers curled ready-to-draw over a bright yellow-handled gun in a dark holster; out-of-focus cowboy-hat figure stands the dusty street facing camera. Mid-street he recoils and falls back, torso tilted, arms pulled to chest, right leg lifted, strained look up — dusty two-story wood buildings, hitching posts, barrels, partial DRUG STORE sign. Odd calm: low-angle he holds a partially peeled banana to his mouth and eats looking off, clear blue sky and dry brushy hillside behind.

Crew returns — he walks purposeful dirt street while a camera operator tracks him on a stabilized gimbal. He faces camera intense with voluminous dark curly hair. Body angled, head turns camera intense and pained, dark red blood streak from the right mouth corner, left hand raised — gold ring on the left ring finger, dark textured bracelet on the wrist. Stunt mid-take: mid-air diagonal tumble and flip, heavy motion blur, partner assisting below. Motion-blur run across the dim interior past the mountain tapestry and warm god-rays. Black woman on wood boardwalk arms crossed firm by a HARDWARE sign and weathered wagon wheel. He looks down at an open right palm held at chest, thin bracelet and silver ring, blue-green circular lens flare overlapping the arm.

She leans into his ear and cheek in a whisper or kiss, eyes closed, hand near his temple, small black line tattoo on the top of her right shoulder. Back-view they walk toward a small crowd on a dirt path. He stands the dusty Western set contemplative, headphones around his neck, translucent double-exposure tree overlay. Double-exposure: his calm profile layered over Western street golden-hour — horse and carriage silhouette, period figures, wood buildings and balconies, warm bloom. Wide sunset: a rider who looks like him rides a dark horse center away toward bright sun flare kicking thick backlit dust. Empty street fills with thick dust and haze, hard god-rays through trees, long shadows on wooden façades. His face double-exposes over the sun-blasted Western street — somber, mouth parted singing, translucent torso merging with dusty buildings in warm sepia gold.

He looks direct-to-camera stationary; a thin cigarillo centered in his mouth; large semi-transparent yellow Western slab-serif THE END overlays his face; warm golden-hour side light, trees and wood soft behind. Full black. Black again.

Later the Western will not quit. Profile he speaks and points with a thin dark stick between his fingers while an older man in black hat and black duster watches. Three men on a saloon porch — older long-hair with eyepatch leaning a wood post hands in duster pockets, bearded man at dark batwing doors hand near holster. He walks mid-street open-mouth laughing, hand raised near chin; woman in blue prairie dress by a wood pillar; brown horse head bridled soft right. Under a wood porch overhang he laughs candid; man in dark coat and red cravat holds a brown hat soft; woman in long light-blue puffed-sleeve period dress stands soft. Profile contemplative, hand curled near mouth; man on bench in dark vest with hat in lap. He looks down biting a thumb or holding a small object to his lips; woman in high-neck muted blue-grey Victorian dress under the porch. He observes off-camera; BEER 5¢ weathered wood sign over a window; dark arched batwing saloon doors. Back three-quarter he faces porch men in a standoff — eyepatch man leaning a pillar staring stern, bearded man leaning a pillar watching, swinging batwing doors behind. Heavy out-of-focus pass-by while the eyepatch man leans the post hands in duster pockets and the bearded man leans the wall, gunbelt visible. Eyepatch man leans a square weathered porch pillar looking off stern and weary; bearded man at the edge faces him; far left a man sits a bench in black hat, black jacket, vest, white collar.

Dust. Blood-stained shirt. Yellow HOMEWRECKER. Toothpick under the cowboy hat. God-rays on the mountain tapestry. Saloon hand on the bar. Balcony hands. Bandaged chest on red velvet. Black hat crowning her in the oaks. Cash thrust under a floodlight. Yellow-handled draw. Banana on the hillside. THE END over the cigarillo. Eyepatch porch that will not let the town sleep.

The track answers the frame: “I wanna kiss you on the bed and on the floor”

What sticks when the picture dies is the loop the camera already built — same rooms, same wardrobe returns, same motions it would not drop.

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