Them. Both!


The Woman
The Man
The Screen

Two artists. Two loners. Closed in their own worlds. A trial for communication, and failure – because of fear, ego, nature. Looking right into the Creation – of man and woman. The signs they receive, the lessons and the Cross, which everyone carries. Alone. And their estimated time.


On the screen there is a projection of his painting, “Salvation”. The cross bursts into flames. It burns. A pair of eyes. Not flickering. Voice: I am taking away everything from you! ... I had given you too much. I am taking back everything! Become ordinary! … I am taking your gift, your hands’ skills, too! Get to know and experience the workday and its happiness! … Learn to love! Your fellow men and the one who is with you!
Man: This cannot be! … I do not want it! … I, I am not ordinary… I am… an artist! A great artist! … This is a joke! … Irony… This cannot be! No, I do not want it!
Voice: Yes, it can! … Life is a joke! … Accept it! … Have fun! And be yourself! Just you!
The Voice disappears. The screen is blank. Nothing. There is nothing except the message. The man walks around like he is out of his mind. He tries to tear the painting, and gives up. And walks, walks… he is a beast in a cage.
Man: Me?! Ordinary?! It cannot be! I am an artist. A creator! I can, I give, I prove myself… I give everything… myself, my abilities… This is ridiculous, it is impossible! I want my hands!... My brain…I want it back! My abilities, as well. My eyes! … God, hear me! This I want you to give me back. Give it back to me!
Voice: Be true! Love!
The man is on his knees. He is praying in front of the screen, on which there is nothing.


Woman: The cross is on fire!
Man: What?!
Woman: The one from “Salvation”, your painting.
Man: Don’t you even think about it! … So?
Woman: You’ve gone blind.
Man: Me?!
Woman: Yes. You had a lesson to learn. A punishment, a test… I don’t know. I’m asking myself, why?!
Man: You’ll drive me insane. Come on, stop it! … My head’s fuming with this “Salvation” thing, and now you’re on it too! Signs, visions, imagination… Stop.
Woman: I can’t. It was true… And one more thing – I saw my death. I didn’t like it.
Man: Your death?!
Woman: Yes, mine. I got run over by a car because I was shocked by your betrayal. And I didn’t like it. My gosh, this is how I saw it. It wasn’t a dream, it wasn’t. Was it fiction? Or reality? I don’t know.
Man: Don’t amass these sins on me!
Woman: Are they many?
Man: Enough. I’m not an angel.
Woman: It never crossed my mind. Although, there is nothing trivial. So, there’s a cause. And an effect. I saw the effect. Now I have to find out the cause.
Man: Go find out what you want. I’m going back to my “Salvation”.
Woman: It’s inside us.
Man: What?!
Woman: Salvation. It’s inside us. Inner peace, too.


Man: You won’t see me off… the best creation of my life. Fragile, weak, what was happening in your soul, my dear? I always (or at least I think I do) solve them global issues – Man, Nature, World, Universe, God, me, your toilsome father. I never understood. I didn’t realize my fragile sequel. I sent you off… You, in your ball dress. You looked like an orchid. I’m painting “Salvation” and I’m really trying to find it. After your death, I lost my mind. I was so withdrawn, now I’ve become even more so. I can’t find peace and tranquility. Except here, on the canvas. My little one, you should know I love you! I have always loved you… In my own way. Without words. I can’t speak. I can’t express myself. I loved you but I never told you – is this my fault?! Girl, girl, why did you break your wings?! Your flight?! An overdose?!... What did you run from? And why didn’t you run to me?! How many times have I asked myself and found no answer… And still… After so many years… Sad, lonely, endless years of withdrawal, piercing pain and reproach. Towards myself. If you had come… If only you had come… Alone you died, alone… What’s been in your Soul? … And where were I? Before an empty canvas, before new, fictional worlds and my serial self-proof. For whom? Myself. God punished me. Awful. Deep. Empty. It aches. She, how could she know about this? About punishment?! About the burning cross?! Because it burst in flames with your departure. Sleep, my dear. Peacefully. Forever. And give me peace and sleep too… Give me… Salvation.


Woman: I’m not here for the obituaries only… Though I share them. I’m compassionate. Why did you invite me here? I never meant to intrude.
Man: Fear… I’m scared… of loneliness. Fear. It wants to destroy me. And what if nightmares appear?
Woman: I don’t think you need me. You better go see a doctor, a psychologist.
Man: Don’t talk about doctors. I hate them… I despise them! I’m healthy. And they, they couldn’t save her. Don’t you ever again talk to me about them! Ever! Ever! Ever!
Woman: I understood! Stop yelling!
Man: I will yell! I’ll do whatever I want! This is my house…My house. Yes, I will yell, because of my weakness, the impossibility of being heard, understood; because of loneliness, I’ll scream. Scream! I’m lonely! Does anybody hear?
Woman: I heard! I hear you! I’m lonely too. I’m not yelling. I’m quiet. Listening to my loneliness.
Man: You can hear it?
Woman: Yes.
Man: But how?
Woman: It’s beating. Right in the temple. Ringing. Like a bell. It’s echoing deeply and heavily. I’m listening and I’m trying to accept it.
Man: How?
Woman: By sharing it. I’m sharing my own loneliness. It hurts less. Try! Sharing it with yourself.
Man: You’re crazy! You can’t share loneliness with yourself, but you can do, with the person next to you.
Woman: And when that person has betrayed you? Then what? What happens?! You share with yourself.
Man: That’s why we are together, right?
Woman: Are we really together?


Woman: How did I dance? Like crazy! Like mad! ... I loved dancing. Alone with the music and dance, made up by me. My Soul needed it, my body too. Rhythm, rhythm… Something inside me was released, I felt strange… I was dancing, singing, shouting. Until that moment – Vicka was broken! In the hall!... I broke down. I saw her braids when they took her to the big car, her father’s one. Then her face was pressed against the window. Hers. My daughter’s. The dance was over. For long, very long.
Share my loneliness. Let me close to yours!... Do you hear me?!