When KR responded, “Last words??”. she had no idea I was fading out with the camera. The camera had a button that could end any clip of video with an impressively smooth fade to black. I used it a lot back then when I had no means of editing these videos at home, the way I do today. These fade outs made watching raw video a little easier to watch.
Also on the subject of editing (and KR) was the moment she gave me the “wrap it up” signal – a hand gesture understood by many in the TV/video industry. (I guess I’m doing a little “rescuing” here because I don’t want you to think she was being short with me. I was taking my sweet time shooting what to her must have looked like boring, superfluous stuff. It seemed important at the time to make sure to get the radio displaying 105.9 so you’d know where that Jethro Tull music was coming from. Maybe I was being slightly inconsiderate. She’d been kind enough to give me a ride to meet pals this Sunday morning in Lincoln Park. I can understand she may have felt impatient. I’m pretty sure she wasn’t expecting me to turn the camera on her either. Whew. Funny how so much can go into (or come out of) a few seconds of video shot nearly thirty-one years ago.
Just goes to show how rich these ordinary moments can be. Why did I take this video? Why have I taken so many similar videos over the years?
Because I have always believed in Life. In every moment. Yes, everyday living can be “boring.” Boring compared to produced and polished content we see everywhere on our screens today. But, over time, I find these grainy images and sounds gain stature. Even mystery. Was I really there, 31 years ago? Where is that place today? Where are these people today? Did we really look like that? Hey, I was just downtown a couple of weeks ago, and it was such an odd sensation walking on familiar streets while at the same time, feeling slightly out of place, like I was an alien. It’s all part of the One Continuous Take mystery. Things change slowly, imperceptibly while I live one day after another. Restaurants come and go. Buildings come and go. People come and go. Yet it’s always happening, always the present, always now. Then I watch a video I shot 31 years ago, and the changes stand out in such stark relief. And what the hell is going on when I look in the mirror? Video is a mini time-travel machine.
Get this – at a restaurant called Avec in River North, I could just feel I was near an old favorite of mine from the 1980s, a place I hadn’t heard a peep about in years. The place was very, very popular.
As we ordered, I was very impressed with how knowledgeable our server was. Very smart. But I was expecting too much when I dared ask her if she’d ever heard of Scoozi.
Not a glimmer.
What memories come alive for you as you watch?
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