The Colors of Trembling Hands
WARNING: Graphic Content
I had a free moment, so I made a visual poem of sorts… four-plus minutes culled from hours of footage from my last visit to Guatemala.
Give it time to load (HD) and enjoy the soundtrack. It’s about death and ritual.
In the cold comfort of the world’s trembling hands, death is not death unless it’s allowed to linger, and kittens allowed to feast. The massacre of history not history, so long as you carry the weight on your shoulder, and your children are made to watch.
Music: “Witness of a Heart Attack Death” by Shapednoise