Reid Dickie
My memory is what I forget with.
Now you can view Things I Have Forgotten as a complete 34-minute piece of video art, the way I intended it to be seen. If you missed any of the 12 Days, this will fill in the missing pieces. Even if you watched each day, I recommend you watch the whole thing to experience the overall feelings I was trying to convey and to find the context and continuity for its many parts. My use of sound volume and the visual transitions between sections are more evident and effective in the entirety.
This is a very personal piece for me, much more personal than most of my recent video art works. As I mentioned in the Day One introduction I was inspired by early video artists from the 1970s who shared intimate stories and secrets. The memories of the items and events that I share are all true and told from the long view of my 64 years. Age brings changing perspectives on life, love and the past. I wanted to be honest about these items, what they meant to me then and what they mean to me now. I tried to bridge the years between then and now by illuminating the changing meanings of the objects.
This is also a bridge that extends into my future, as in, I should remember these things now before I actually forget all about them due to some form of mental erasure. Call these precautionary memories. Thus, the title Things I Have Forgotten. This has already begun with the Keys whose locks are forgotten albeit through death and inattention more than memory lack but it’s the same result.
Past and future are always an experience of the present moment, we remember and anticipate into the Now. Memory only happens Now, not ago nor as yet. Remembering is an intimate experience, each memory a private part, a pixel in our pattern to be tweaked and turned, to succumb to new meaning, new needs. Memory is more fluid, more organic than we realize. Memory evolves and devolves according to life events, being stepped on, age, diet and a host of factors. Memory is organic. So is forgetting, forgetting to, forgetting about, forgetting of, purposeful forgetting, useful forgetting, involuntary forgetting.
The elements – earth, air, fire, water – are exalted in HD in Things I Have Forgotten, their natural presence reflecting my country roots and signifying shamanic practice, plus wood and lightning as change agents, always in flux.
The found footage in the montage sequences, stylized by brief snatches, big sound and quick cuts, contrasts with the quiet, serene places where the personal stories are told. I have notes about each story segment as well as the segues but will save those for a later post. Meanwhile, have you forgotten anything? Click here and see.
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