A flock of white pigeons fly over the rooftops of Habana Vieja, Old Havana.
In a split second they are gone, never to happen exactly the same again.
The point is that when I see a sunset or a waterfall or something, for a split second it’s so great, because for a little bit I’m out of my brain, and it’s got nothing to do with me. I’m not trying to figure it out, you know what I mean? And I wonder if I can somehow find a way to maintain that mind stillness.
___Chris Evans