I like "The Clog Tree", which is full of helpless warmth and cruel contradictions. And this kind of contradiction does not arise from fierceness or extremes, it comes from the logic of life itself that is peaceful, understated, almost compromised, and cannot be chosen. I would like to call this poetic logic. It is a naturalistic style that entrusts life to nature, comes from the land, comes from hands, and comes from labor itself. While infiltrating, it awakens a kind of review of natural life itself, a kind of irrigation that is close to the earth and comes from the fields, wind, rain, thunder, lightning and snow in spring, summer, autumn and winter, making the mind roll around in the mud. Later, I found that it was only my skin that was dirty, but my eyes were still clear, pure and bright.
--Ermanni Olmi, 1978
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