Je m'appelle Agneta

© 2009 Vilma Machado

There is a particular joy in encountering something that brings, with such sensitivity and beauty, questions that have long been at the heart of an inquiry that accompanies my work: time, listening, and space.

Yesterday I watched Je m'appelle Agneta.

It is a delicate film that deals with deeply human realities and touches us because, at some point in our own journey, we recognize something of ourselves in what unfolds before us. The discomfort of trying to meet the expectations of others, of a place, of the surrounding world. Entire inner worlds created to sustain what we are not yet able to name, understand, or face, but also to protect ourselves.

The film reminds us that what we call reality is not always shared in the same way. What may seem absurd, exaggerated, or even madness to some is, for others, simply the world as they experience it. We often call madness what we do not understand. At other times, we call normality what we have learned to repeat without ever questioning.

Even as a work of fiction, the film touches once again on something my work continues to affirm: the possibility that listening can alter a destiny. Not because it solves life, removes pain, or erases loss, but because it remains. It remains long enough for something to finally be seen.

Listening does not eliminate the conflicts of existence. But listening, joined with time, creates space. And within that space, the conditions may emerge to look, recognize, and choose. Perhaps it is precisely there that new paths become possible.