Moments
Permanently, I forget about the pitch to measure performance. I find it unnatural. Stop and save the picture or record how a motor boat is chasing me, that’s another coffee. However, a rainy period of rains, coffee time, heat insulation, sentimental and melancholy time began. Colors are in retreat. I’m going with Bergen. I’m preparing an expedition. Sometimes I go to the theater, where there are modern plays and folk entertainment. Vildanden – Henrik Ibsen. Playing from a photo environment. Son comes to refuse to inherit his father’s inheritance. The child hears his father stopping to love him because he finds out that he is not his, he does not understand it and is shot dead. The family has a wilderness in the soil, and the father and his grandfather are escaping there. It is their preserve, a real forest that has now disappeared.