This book is not my childhood. It is our childhood. And we are nothing but what we have seen and heard. Looking back, the past is like a mournful mourning march to me. It both pushes you back and calls you back to yourself. This album is a small docu ...
This book is not my childhood. It is our childhood. And we are nothing but what we have seen and heard. Looking back, the past is like a mournful mourning march to me. It both pushes you back and calls you back to yourself. This album is a small document that, like the process of psychoanalysis, forces us to give back and raise, so that we can understand in this moment what the feeling is from all those ups and downs. … What is it? Melancholy. A sadness with happy colors. A colored sadness. Sadness is colored.
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