Snow. Diamonds.

It snows.

When I was 19 and did my first internship, it was on the International Film Festival Mannheim-Heidelberg.  There was a film from Lithuania screening. A film by Audrius Juzenas . It started with a boy reading a letter to his father, the child’s voice from off-screen. And ended with a shot of this boy, looking out the back-window of a bus. We had learned during the film, that the father had died. It was snowing in thick fluffy flakes on the glass of the bus back window. From off-screen you could hear the father’s answer to the boys letter:

“It also snows in Paradise.”

Later, I heard Dylan Thomas A child’s Christmas in Wales being read in Nico Humbert’s wonderful Vagabonding Images. A glamorous essayist documentary. A collection of moments of sheer happiness. Strangely enough, I can remember each word, but not, if a man or a woman read it.

 

*image by Nicolas Humbert & Simone Fürbringer

“I can never remember whether it snowed for six days and six nights when I was twelve or whether it snowed for twelve days and twelve nights when I was six.”

 

 

 

He said. The narrator. Or she. What amazing images that were.

The snow is so full of glimmer and sparkle, it looks like someone lost a load of diamonds. We are having very thin and intensely dry snow here at the moment. So dry, you forget it can get you wet. And you start fights with your friends who are trying to tell you the white talcum powderish stuff is made of water…pff…stupid friends those…

I walked down the street, and listened to the cracking of my shoes on the snow. In the large white silence around, that swallowed each other sound.

My feet on the snow give a hhhh similar to the one, when you exhale fast and heavily through your mouth with some tension on your cheeks.  – Try it. Can you hear? – That’s for when the heel of my foot hits the ground. – Than, there is a rustling like eating a mouth full of brittle or as if shaking your hands crazily in an unsorted wild bunch of raw silk. Soothing in the end, you can hear a dark tone, as if you were running the pages of a thick book past your fingers all at once.

Tomorrow, I shall try to scan some snow for you. I wonder how that will look like.

2 thoughts on “Snow. Diamonds.

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