The red balloon

There is a part of my childhood I don't remember. You know, you hid it so well, every time you try to go there you come across bolted doors. All the doors are shut and only a stream of light manages to squeeze through the gap under the door. One such ray of light managed to make its way into the hidden corners of my memory when I went to see the exhibition by Marko Mrše and saw this photo collage. It immediately reminded me of the film The red balloon, which I could not give you a synopsis of, but I do remember the sort of feeling I had when I watched it (or what I believe I remember to be the feeling, I will have to watch it again and see what it brings up) and I remember where I watched it and who took me to watch it. So, it seems that I better watch it again and see what happens...