I’ve been bleeding for a big project, something to really throw myself into. Luckily, weddings are as big as they come, and at 70.43 GB of footage taken, this wedding was the biggest by far.
It was also the first Italian wedding I’ve experienced, and there was nothing more interesting than observing the customs. It’s a very physical culture, with lots of hugging, kissing, and firm pats on shoulders. And somehow everyone is a natural dancer. How did everyone know to hold hands in equally sized circles and start moving in the same direction? How did everyone know when to stop holding hands and start clapping? How did you everyone known to step in to touch the groom and mother at the same time?
This is a perfect example of how video takes over the limitations of still photography. A lot of camaraderie and intimacy and confidence only come out when motion is involved, because it’s all in how people move and interact. Trying to capture a bride eating cake out of her cleavage just isn’t possible with a single frame.
This was a very special project for me, and I put so much love into this film, from the camera-work to the editing to the grading to the music. Over three hours of footage was carefully stripped away to create this five minute story. Every moment matters, every frame counts.
Sarah and Mike are so happy with the final product that they’ve now decided to send a DVD of this video out to all the guests in lieu of thank-you cards. For a wedding of 450 people, this is no small consideration. When I first met them, I knew they were going to be a fantastic couple to work with because they were super nice and made me feel very comfortable. They also gave me full creative control, which is always the most important thing for me as an artist.
Production notes beneath the cut
I was spring cleaning and found a box of condoms due to expire this summer. What’s the lifespan of condoms kept out of the sunlight and in a cool place?
Which pretty much means I haven’t been in a relationship in as long, cause I’ve always shied away from anything purely physical. Sex is very mental for me. Someone once told me she thought we were sexually compatible, but I never felt like we were particularly well-matched. We simply loved each other on a very profound level, and that kind of intimacy and connection is what made the sex so good. Without that, it’s not even worth it.
Maybe it’s just my interversion that’s leading me to think that no sex is better than bad sex.
The last thing I did was hold hands with someone after she jumped into bed with me, complaining she couldn’t sleep. She had these tiny hands, with slender fingers. It was nice. But I couldn’t bring myself to take it any further cause I couldn’t see myself with her.
Luckily, I can do dry spells. Easily. Considering I had a 15-year one until I lost my virginity. Now I’m at an age where people want to introduce me to someone, and sometimes they’ll add, “…but she has a kid”, when trying to sell me on the idea.
The weather has been lovely. It’s the perfect temperature, though the humidity has given my ukulele a much more pronounced buzz on the C string. Spring officially begins when I can take the mittens out of my car and drive with the windows down, my only concern being that my music isn’t too embarrassing, and I don’t get a sudden burst of I BE ON THE HOTLINE LIKE ERRRRDAY when stopped at a red light.
I’m still physically recovering from last weekend. I got back to Darren’s late after working a very intense 14 hours, and since it’s been so long since we last saw each other, that was just the beginning of the night. Then we woke up early to see Chris. On the way home, I had to pull over at a comfort station to grab a few winks in my car, but I was too uncomfortably exhausted to fall asleep, and ended up driving home bug-eyed. I’m sure this is why my colitis is acting up.
Probably not good that I’ve been living such a hedonistic lifestyle. I stay up far too late, drink too much caffeine, and indulge in too many sweets close to bedtime. I can’t tell if I’ve stopped caring, or if I’ve stopped feeling guilty about it.
I’ve been going through long stretches without contact from the outside world. It’s forced me to face my own isolation, yet I don’t feel lonely. I have no idea why. Maybe it’s cause I tend to get obsessed with my small hobbies, and it distracts me enough. I worry that I’ve become a little too complacent in this introversion. It makes me wonder how long I can keep going down this path, and whether I even want to be on it or not.
I’ve been feeling nostalgic about Toronto ever since I drove down for ____’s wedding. The other day I stepped outside and the spring air brought me back to Camp Creative when I used to live there, between semesters in grade 5–7. At some point this year I hope to drive home again and take pictures of those old schools where I spent the days making gimp bracelets and lip-syncing as Javert in Les Miserables.
Places are only as good as the people though, and I’m sure I miss Toronto for ____ and Darren as much as those old childhood memories, when life was so simple that the fact that it was disgustingly hot never entered my mind, even though I was outside for most of the day.
Scottish faces in Scottish places. This was literally the size of half the cafe. Off-camera is Mike working his magic to convince these two baristas to let us film inside.
I miss Mike and rainy London nights too. I want to be part of a creative team again, working towards a common vision, with someone who can compliment my weaknesses with their strengths. It’s been too long since I had someone to bounce ideas off of, someone to give me honest criticism and inspire me to improve. Mike does all those things, and I’ve yet to find someone like that here in Ottawa.
Night shopping in downtown Chartres.
I miss France, and Misun and Frédéric, and how they could truly appreciate who I am. I love the culture in that country, and the fact that you can buy a fresh baguette by walking a minute from anywhere. And I’m far from being finished with Paris; there was so much I had left to explore, so many things I’d yet to do. I want to go back as the right person, not as a person trying to escape my thoughts and memories.
Gateway in Kowloon Walled City.
Hong Kong I miss most of all, and my family there. I want nothing more than to walk those streets with Uncle Joe or Uncle Eddie. Sometimes, I sit by my back door with the window open and just listen to cars passing by in the darkness, pretending it’s the din of those highways and the diesel of the trucks. Nothing ever comes close though, and it only leaves me feeling like all these places are so far away.