Anat Weissman
anatweissman67@gmail.com
@ballaganat
The silence that remains
My grandmother no longer has the will to live. She doesn't know who she is and isn't aware of the passing of time; she and the house have become one and inseparable. She used to be a strong woman, but today only a faded shadow remains. She is now like an inanimate object, collecting dust. The old clock that has stopped working watches her from the shelf, taunting her, making her yearn for her own batteries to run out just the same. Longing for the moving body to surrender to eternal sleep. The cloud of confusion that surrounds her allows me to film her without her noticing, and to document her without interruption or self-restraint. I look at her and fear a similar fate: the state of helplessness that is her life. I'm petrified of the future in which my mind may betray me while I am still alive. The work is dedicated to the late Eran Raanan.