I have now published 6000 seconds (or more simply, 100 minutes) of my life in my project No Context. It’s a wild ride that’s still not stopping but I’m taking another moment to gather my thoughts on this milestone.
Firstly, I’m really grateful to the people that watch these little videos, who tell me what they think of them and who notice when I’m filming and respectfully fall silent, or even the ones that belligerently refuse to quieten down and make the videos more interesting.
One of my English friends said to me that they felt like they could get to know my friends in these short snippets but somehow I didn’t seem to be there. I found it strange since the only thing they all have in common, by definition, is that I was there and there was a camera. I can’t even say that I shot all of them since there are (rare) occasions when a friend takes control of the equipment around me. So it’s true that all my friends come through very clearly, but then again, people keep saying that you’re the average of the five people you spend the most time with, so they must reflect something of me.
Something I’ve done more of is watch my own videos back. For the first four months or so I never gave these videos a backwards glance and there were honestly times when I would forget entirely what I had filmed or what the final video looked like. However, recently people have been telling me that it’s somehow more interesting, and oddly meditative, to watch them in a chunk, in order or out of order. I gave this a try. Personally, I watch them in order since I know exactly what sequence of feelings and thoughts correspond to each 30 seconds and watching them out of order feels like some kind of dizzying time warp happens between every video. What I noticed is how other people and places seem to weave in and out of the story at different rates and intervals. There are people who are inescapable, roads that I’ve somehow found a million ways to film and well, my apartment. Then there are people that aren’t there often but appear every so often like a thread in a tapestry that just comes to the forefront before settling into the background. Then there are the things that were there and then vanish, places I saw on holiday and then never again or people that pass by strongly and fade out quickly.
The real challenge I’ve faced since my last post about No Context has been a challenge to the very core of the project: the idea of recording something beautiful or interesting each day. This worked great for a time. I recorded a whole wild summer which, despite a couple of low points was exciting and different. Now that I’m back in Paris where the project started a lot of the decors are the same. Thankfully it’s not the same university so a new neighbourhood has come into play (and studying films all day has had a huge influence on my style and ideas). I worry that sometimes the things I love around me are all the same things that I’ve already put out there. That only becomes more and more probable now that I’ve developed and settled into my new routine.
Aside from that, which was a risk from the start, I’ve had to confront what happens when there was nothing I wanted to record. Bad days happen. Bad weeks happen. There are days you never want to think about ever again let alone have to go back and confront through your own images. How are you supposed to edit a bad day and still make it something you’d want to watch? More urgently how do you film the innate beauty of your life when you’re not feeling all that optimistic? I was lucky because te project started when I was on such a high note I never really considered what would happen in this case. So I’m still working on it. Working on somehow still seeing the little things, or the big things that are worth filming but knowing how not to film them through rose-tinted glasses. I’m still creating No Context and I still want it to be a faithful and true vision of my life every day.
Check out the last few chapters in these playlists: