You {Me}-- A Study: Creativity

It was official. We had decided to be friends, and to make a film. It was going to be epic.

So I walked over to your house, video camera in hand, and we set to work.

Talking.

And Talking some more.

I loved that evening. Others coming in and out of the room, joining and disassembling at intervals--despite our best-laid plans, we couldn't seem to stop talking. Too busy creating a scene of human interaction to concentrate on our art.

Now that we have grown older, I am repeatedly amazed at your ability to create. Time and distance have worn the edges of that memory a bit, and I guess if we had made a film, I would have had that artifact to remind myself of how our voices sounded then, what clothes we wore, the references we used, the music we enjoyed...

I see in that the difficulties in such a photo-journalistic approach to art. Some will say the intent of the still and video camera was to capture memories. Indeed, that is how these instruments are widely used. Polaroid, Cannon, Nikon, Sony... they all instill in us a desperation to need to capture every moment in some media in order to remember those aspects our minds will toss out while we sleep.

I guess they have a point--if we insist on details. If we must remember every nit-picky thing that would otherwise be lost to us, then a camera will certainly be a necessary tool. But, what if what we want to remember is something akin to an instance of kinetic energy? The gathering force of a budding friendship. That feeling of a mounting conversation, back and forth; two young people, for a moment, too enthusiastic about life to remember to record it.

So, years later, I record the leftovers of it here. Thank you for teaching me about creativity then, and so many times since then--you truly are an inspiration, and I wish you the best of luck in all of your creative endeavors.

Here is to the film we never filmed. Perhaps it has become one of our greatest works despite our childish neglect of its craft.