Mirror ★★½

My mind, body, and soul have just had the most immense wind blown through them like breezes through the grass and field. Time's fire, remembrance in monochromatic jumble. Mixed with the ceiling shakes, the obfuscation and obstruction of the past, the here, the later, and the then. From my experience, Tarkovsky's movies have always been two things: beautiful yet distant, and ultimately challenging. They're the most difficult poems to both understand and read through, for the stanzas are renegade, and the lyrics are archaic. The psyche twists, and everything is nothing as nothing is everything. From the brush of the bush, ash to ash, and split like a five-way mirror. It's boring, but it's fascinating, something that digs at the deeper emotive. Probably going to be a long, long time before I can ever talk about this at length.

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