in editing (I tried to a little, but I feel I might be more interested in the DOCUMENTING rather than the chopping up.. it pains me, it pains me terribly that some parts are less important to view again than others, and the infinite minuscule decisions of elimination puts this immense pressure that I hate to stomach. it puts my mind at ease to KNOW simply that something is documented, even if I never view it again. like a, just in case or a backup. like there's always something to fall back on. and the mundane dead space is no less important, most times, or everyday conversation. I strongly believe everyday conversation, especially with someone you do not know very well, is something I desperately want to hold onto. once I have that documented I cant go back, I am addicted to having a backup of every word exchanged, even if it crosses some privacy or personal boundaries of the other. it is sick. I do not know if I am crossing a line - I am very aware of it and I step very carefully. I just don't want to forget it. the first words. and not even that. every conversation is an important event. the first time we talked here, the things we talked about when we went to this other place. it is an obsession of capture, of combatting fickle memory, the sickness of nostalgia. it is the closest thing to the wish of travelling back in time to look at yourself when you were younger.. it is the magic of being able to look back on exactly the same footage and moving pixels and audio and supposed atmosphere years and years later. it is building a mundane archive that will one day be paramount, if only to myself.
I think it is a significant realisation that I, although I do enjoy immensely re-watching a capsuled version, a controlled, edited down version of an event (like instagram highlights) the process is extremely painful because of the reasons stated above. what happens is I obsess over this new version and, too quickly, that capsule becomes the event. that is all my memory for it. the dead or even exciting space that got eliminated, simply ceases to exist. and that is a deep tragedy... you mourn for the forgotten.. if that is even possible.. you only know it had once been there. but to re-live everything.. which is what this obsession essentially is, I guess.. is impossible.. I will never catch up to the present.. living is so difficult because time goes on constantly.. even in writing on this blog and updating everyday.. I wish so badly I could put in a hundred per cent for every post.. but realistically it isn't possible.. and that is something I am infinitely sad about.
I respect everybody who makes films and video works for this reason, you are always chopping your child, your raw footage up. there is also an interesting ground with scripted and planned video works in the process of editing.. such as, which take is the best.. I would get it in my head that every take is monumental.. I could never do it.. I could never delete the raw footage.. I would back it up infinite amount of times if I could.. even though I know clearly everything in this world is temporary.. so why am I so desperate to hang onto these pieces? I would rather not film or live anything if I can't have it all. would this be different if the footage has nothing to do with myself? perhaps it is narsassistic. or perhaps I just want to understand myself and my interactions to everything external.
It honestly can feel like an obstacle in every facet of my life. I experience a suffocating feeling sometimes. mourning I didn't capture this moment. that I didn't write down my thoughts right after this event. that my hand shook during a concert recording. that my screen recording malfunctioned during a livestream. that I can't locate a screenshot of a particular point of reference. who is it all for? I wish somebody could do all this for me, but if it isn't me who's doing it, it's not mine. this is sick, but traumatic events probably rank the most value in terms of possession. thinking of susan sontag's regarding the pain of others, again.
the main reason for the desperation to post every day here and constantly playing catch up is because I literally don't remember what I did this week. and what if I discover a new route into something, somethig of value that actually exists in what I did in the past few days? I would have forgotten it! this might be a common thing for most people. perhaps my dyspraxia impacts it as well. but I feel it epecially in terms of determining how many days ago I did this and especially how many months and years ago this happened. I truly couldn't tell you. that's why I clutch so tightly on my archive of photos and videos, they give me a concrete digital time stamp of my life so far. if I lose it, if I can't log in somehow, if the digital failed me, my life would wither away. I simply cannot let that happen. is this proof that I existed in this time? is there a me that lives in the past and a me that lives in the present.. and if so, what does it mean when the me in the present looks at the me in the past .. and that footage isn't even reliable, but it is the most reliable technology we have now. there is also the fact that society puts so much value in recordings, in that being evidence. 'evidence'... that is a curious concept..
in terms of writing posts like this or diary entries etc, sometimes I look back and I don't recognise that person at all. and that is curious to think about because how could I feel so different after in this span of time? imagine I didn't have this record of past me, who am I now? I guess this links back to a point made in paul's lecture when he was talking about history and how you have to have the past to have the present etc.
it's a sick obsession of wanting to possess every memory or nothing at all.