Like that scene in Bergman's Saraband where the young girl cuts up vegetables with the old woman waiting for her grandfather to come back.
Reminds me of the more recent Sciamma's Petite Maman on what's here and what isn't.
Reminds me of a lot of things, cause it's short and it's things I never did.
A game like pine, honey, cinnamon, the warmth of autumn.
There's that empty but not sad moment of self conciousness in the present when you only hear your feet in the snow cut up by short silences.
It could've had purposeful camera angles instead of the free camera.
After the grandma tells you the snow was like ice cream to her younger self the following last present part could've had more saturated colours.
Made me realise more complex things on the symbolism of autumn: it's an inbetween or an end, appropriate for anger and sadness, weirdly (or not!) enough that's where its comfy feel comes from, it touches ALL of your emotions.
Reminds me of the more recent Sciamma's Petite Maman on what's here and what isn't.
Reminds me of a lot of things, cause it's short and it's things I never did.
A game like pine, honey, cinnamon, the warmth of autumn.
There's that empty but not sad moment of self conciousness in the present when you only hear your feet in the snow cut up by short silences.
It could've had purposeful camera angles instead of the free camera.
After the grandma tells you the snow was like ice cream to her younger self the following last present part could've had more saturated colours.
Made me realise more complex things on the symbolism of autumn: it's an inbetween or an end, appropriate for anger and sadness, weirdly (or not!) enough that's where its comfy feel comes from, it touches ALL of your emotions.