The weary traveller stands at the centre of the frame. He and his dog are staring upwards, wondering what manner of man could fall from the sky.
The centrepiece is the peasant working the plough, head down, tilling the ground. I love the film, Jean de Florette, the tale of a hunchback who moves to a rural town to claim his inheritance and begin life again in the country with his beautiful wife and child. Many a man has dreamed of returning to the earth and producing fruits from the earth, enjoying a relationship with the land, the womb from which all produce springs, reading the seasons and testing the soil.
Jean is not a peasant. He uses modern science to help him grow crops and breed rabbits. He knows eckonomics.
Icarus wanted more and sought the sun, the source of light and heat. Taking the invention of his father, Daedalus, the author of the labyrinth, Icarus flew higher than ever had before. He fell from the sky when he drew too close to the sun, the wax in his wings melting from his arms.
A little unreason is good for the soul; a mask, an untruth frees the imagination and flies on the wings of technology.
Where will we find the words riven in the side of the earth’s womb?