The theme of our October Film Club practicum was "motion."
Having been exhausted by preparations for The Folk Tree's art show, the new school year and a grab-bag of other mind-sapping diversions, I stuck myself firmly on top of the fence about taking part in the field exercise, but committed enough to at least document my trip to California. This was the essence of pointing a phone at something and hoping to capture enough moments to string together a coherent narrative: up until the point where I settled on a song (AWOLnation begun playing while my sister and I were driving around Hollywood during the trip, and the damn thing stuck itself between the folds of my brain like a mind-shank) and begun to sift through the spotty footage I'd captured, I had no idea whether or not it was salvageable.
Then I looked at the shots I'd ferreted in the graveyard while visiting Nick, the images of the ofrendas and celebration at the Bell's house and that final shot--coming home to my wife, and ending the increasingly frantic emotions of the three days of pure forward movement--and I realized that it wring it out as best I could, for whatever it was worth. The meaning of the prompt began in a simple notion of motion equalling movement, but--as I spent two weeks trying to chisel out the meaning of this video--I realized that it applied to much, much more than that.
Motion through space. Motion through time. Motion through life. Three short days that meant more to me than some years have, hopefully illustrated as such.
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