“Revival” – A documentary about HOPE in Sarajevo, Bosnia

I just began telling a story of my trip to Sarajevo, Bosnia. Then I erased it all. These words would not do such a phenominal experience justice. And further more, until you go to such a place it will just be another story.

Within I have always felt the pain of others as if it was piercing my very own heart. Some would say it is a curse, but to me I could not imagine being less human. I would not say “human” is the norm of the collective brainwashed majority; my deffinition is of the true potental we all hold within that few decide to access. “Revival” -What does it mean to you? Bullet holes covered every wall of memories we call war, but on the ninth floor amongst shelling and falling bombs a woman wrote a childrens story about the ABCs. Not once did she mention her dead friends that fell before her very eyes or the children that would never laugh at her stories. Humor seemed to break through the cages of fear for many. Beauty in destruction is something I often had a hard time understanding. But, before my very eyes green trees grew on top of the blown out apartment complexes. The beauty is in the duality, and in the proof that no matter how severely humanity fucks up, nature will find a way. I will not exagerate or be so naive by saying everyone changed for the better after the dramatic spilling of neighbor*s blood, but the few people I had the most unbelievable honor of connecting with, on a deeper level than most, possessed a glimmer in their eyes that spoke of life. Every breath was soaked in by the lungs with an inner smile to be alive. After such sights, these people walked through the darkness of fear and found their way into the light. Their choice is this: they could fall to the sorrow of facing their past in every sight of destruction, or they could peer into the deepest bullet hole that imbeds itself in their very house and say, the future is in the youth. The beauty lives in the youth in us that we never allowed to be stolen and in our children that hold the innoscents of sight, but the wisdom of the eldest.

The last day of the REVIVAL festival at the youth house I played with fire. I stood on stage in front of 3000 bosnian youths and danced with balls of fire attached by a chain. Thanks Oshira and Chris. The musician behind me was Darko, the icon of rock n roll in the Balkan region. It did not matter one bit to me. Shuttin my eyes I flowed before the grooving crowd. Emotions spilled from the sweat beading from my entire body. The weak was coming to an end. Our documentary had all come together in a beautifully connected circle. So many movies have come from Bosnia about destruction and the war. It sells. The Bosnian youth deserve to be recognised. Our film is about hope and revival, the revival of a voice heard long ago. It is difficult to leave the country, the economic hardships do not make life easy, but who wants it easy. The people that have it easy economically so often have to develope problems from nothing out of pure habbit or boredom. These people breath and they fight for a voice. Two brothers took me into the heart of this upcoming voice. We had the most incredable pleasure of filming a crew of fourteen year old kids “bomb” the old buildings. They graffiti around the city to feel a freedom of artistic expression. No one is going to tell them any longer what they can or cannot do as long as it harms no one. Some call them vandals. I would never in a million years after feeling the intensity of their conviction, of their serch for love and inspiration, and their fight for answers.

I walk away from Sarajevo moved deeply! The smiles, the laghter, the pain, and the kindness all flows into one as fourteen year olds speak in a foreign tongue of freedom that goes beyond the comprehension of almost all that live in the land of the “free”. Peace