Here is how I work: when I think that a film needs to have a principal theme, I search for a melody.
Clary: "He wanted me to come with him. To join him and Sebastain. I guess he wants their evil little duo to be a little evil trio." She shrugged. "Maybe he's lonely. Sebastian cant be the greatest company. Magnus: we don't know that. He could be absolutely fantastic at Scrabble.
I had PubLIZity, I had Oh, Hello, I had Bobby and Farley - all of these sketches that were really these duo sketches, but the relationship between them is really what catapulted them forward. A lot of that, I think, came from Wayne and Garth, these two similar guys - they're Midwestern metal guys - but in the end, they're quite different because there's an alpha and a beta. And I think that model became very present for me on Kroll Show.
Here is how I work: when I think that a film needs to have a principal theme, I search for a melody. I have a very strange melodic gift: melodies come to me effortlessly. So I write melodies-thirty, forty, fifty-then I cast them off until I have just two or three. If only one is needed, I go see the director and ask him to decide. That happened one time with Jacques Demy for the duo of the twins [in Les demoiselles de Rochefort]: I went to his house in Noirmoutier to play 35 possible themes for him.
Stoichkov is a great person and an exceptional player... Only if we had him at Napoli... can you imagine the Stoichkov-Maradona attacking duo?
It's quite simple: I managed it by doing away with Wham!'s duo image. Obviously, the way I looked changed and that helped a little, but I still have a very pop image. It's a very video-friendly image. I find it a lot more real. It's a lot closer to who I am than the whole Wham! thing.
In the native world, major gods come in trios, duos, and groups. It is the habit of non-natives to discover the supreme being, the one and only head god, a habit lent to them by monotheism.
From the great trees the locusts cry In quavering ecstatic duo-a boy Shouts a wild call-a mourning dove In the blue distance sobs-the wind Wanders by, heavy with odors Of corn and wheat and melon vines; The trees tremble with delirious joy as the breeze Greets them, one by one-now the oak Now the great sycamore, now the elm.
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