In the 80s during the military dictatorship in Chile, my uncle Jarda came from Europe, with a VHS camera. He brought the ashes of his mother, my great – aunt Edita. They said that she lost her mind, was a Trotskyist and Bauhaus Student. They did not want to talk about politics and religion. A dialogue between madness and sanity, certainty and uncertainty, neurosis and wisdom. Was Edita really crazy?
