How unique it is to understand and to be understood, nature, yes, here is the friend from heart. You blow the dreamy smoke, a sip from your fresh tea, you touch your basil, you smell your hand, your hand, how fascinating flowers are, they also tell you:
”Seize the day, look, we are here, we love you.”
Actually humanly struggles, infallible principles can make everyone cherish light, if the things we do make the wheels turn.
The resistance to evil until the end is a kind of hope which has its reward in itself. This film is a mirror to the darkness existing in all of us, the reflection of the scream of our consciousness, a gift for us, a never-to-be- forgotten masterpiece.
What would we do if we came across ourselves all of a sudden? Yes, we sometimes say things to ourselves but what if we see ourselves facing us? What would we say, would we want to say something, would we be scared and run away? Not like looking at the mirror to our reflection, the same of us that we can touch, as alive as we are. We, living in a parallel world, a parallel we. Are we really one and only?
Kundera is writer who handles human beings in all their ways; the forms of existence of the being, specious called human in the place we call world, mostly ironical, tasteless forms, the struggle of living with the pressures, oddities, discrepancies of both her/his own being and the place.
Reading Saroyan is like listening to the sound of a river, being intoxicated with the murmuring of trees. He shows the way of being a human being with our pain in this harsh world, facing ourselves, getting hold of a fine life becoming a human with our sorrow and joy.
Art is our light of meaning on folds of life, on our way of being, sometimes light, sometimes deep dark. Our struggle of sense-making to our lives finds its place as art is an infinite source of light.
Art. A word that is strictly connected with freedom. Not being dependent on anything, anyone, searching only its own truth, trying to find a meaning only in itself. However strongly people, regimes, tyrants struggle to shape it according to their beliefs, ideas, it demands its independence, its own free will. It grows like flowers growing on stones, demolishing all outdated ideas and systems.
The film,of course, is a struggle to catch a glimpse of the artist’s mind, his turning his sorrow to works of art, the wounds becoming the healer. A drop of art in the eternity of nature and the nature of art.
Art is an everlasting spirit, never leaving us alone if we have it in our blood, deep down our soul. Colours, movements, sounds, words are in the artists’ daily life, always in his/her dreams and they ask for being chased incessantly, wherever our talent leads us to.