It is a happy thing to participate in other people's clips by yourself;
The grandma picked up a lot of cherry blossom petals for the staff on her studio;
The memory deviation of your own memory is more real life;
The film reshapes the meaning of the memory fragment itself. The film reshapes the truth in a false way. It is not true in itself, but lives in its own whitewashed memories, and then believes in these illusions;
If you don't choose a memory segment, you can't choose it or don't want to choose it? Not choosing is an inability to let go of something, a kind of rebellion against life and death? Is it questioning the way films reshape memories? Responsible for the authenticity of your own life?
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