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Brueghel, Vermeer, all had this pieces taken out of life, still life, moving life, frozen in one frame.
The first pictures are not overhelming, nor the one that would have to come down your way in this film, not but the atmosphere, the atmosphere like a sphere comes around you and take you captive, the sheer intensity, the love, the absolutisme of religion when turn to the service of humans, as an hazard of life, in this case the Catholic one, is a step nearer to the divine.
I pity the poor one who can not be touch by the grace.
PS: The Tree of Wooden Clogs
Follow Ups:
bottles of Pinot.
Let me know, btw, when you have a friend over here who is going over there: I have several nicely aged bottles of Oregon Pinot for you (still!).
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