MOVIES
The road home, Zhang Yimou, China, 1999.

The river, by Desartico.
Is all about Moods. The arts, the love, the senses, nothing escapes from them. As a big compass, they bring us to our next step. Individual, personal, ineffable, they shape us like a second mother. We follow their guidelines, their advices and impulses as slaves with no option. Is out of our reach to avoid them. Who would want, anyway, if we are the way we are because of them?
Like a child who forces himself, tucked in on bed, to dream that night with that secret passion that makes him happy, lets release ourselves, and be free to chose the mood we want to have by ourselves. Whether that is intelligent or dumb, none should care. Is a person facing himself with no fear. And choosing what we really, openly or secretly, want to feel.
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