On my mind. All the time.

A still from a film shot on film. A white man with dark hair and a long coat stands in a flooded ruin. It’s overrun with plants and algae, and it’s dripping everywhere. The man stands with one hand in his pocket and the other loosely to his side. He looks up and to the left of us intently, as if listening to someone very seriously. The greens are rich against the stone.

Stills from Nostalghia, Tarkovsky (1983)

The same man in the same coat, but dry. This image is more desaturated, the colours are dull. He stands at the bottom of an empty and somewhat ruinous stone pool. He is touching its side, holding a lit candle, looking down at it and focusing on its little flame as he starts to take a step away from the wall.
Closer up, we can see on his face he is straining to keep the flame alive and walk to the end.
He has given up on cupping his hands around the flame, and is trying to shelter it from any breeze with the inside of his coat, which he holds next to it.
The colours have become richer. He continues across the pool, now looking back at the end he came from, as if guarding the flame from any threats.
He has reached the other end. He leans on a metal staircase, exhausted. He holds the candle up, still aflame, the same arm resting on the bannister, head in its crook.
A sepia image. The man is quite distant, a stance somewhere between laying and sitting, arm propping him up. A dog lays next to him, and in front of them is a large puddle. Behind them a small shack and a circle of trees, and surrounding it all, the large ruins of a church.

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