#project05

[the-explorer]

big takeaway: moving images project

My biggest takeaway from the moving images project and the review session with Sarita Khurana is the idea of "through-line". This was my first time hearing this technical film term, but as we went along with each presentation, I got a better sense of what it meant. My understanding of a through-line is that it is the thing (or maybe) multiple elements that creates cohesiveness in a film. With my own project, I intentionally broke my moving images film into two parts. However, having heard the feedback, I understand that even with this intention, there were other ways that I could have bridged the narrative more. I am proud of the work that I did, but I am really eager to improve with a similar project in the future.

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moving mages - additional text

My focus with the moving images project is “light”. 

My interpretation of the “God Stops By” piece by Paige Lewis is that the speaker is yearning to be God. I think the way that they talk about Him as a regular person that sleeps more and is taking care of their health implies a desire to switch roles. The speaker seems a bit jealous and projects their mortality to God, while daydreaming about assuming the role of the divine and being capable of creating new life. But God’s parting message leaves them feeling even more human. 

One representation of God is light. To make the presence and desire of light more clear, I’ve decided to create contrast in the beginning of my presentation with darkness. Hence, I’ve added the text: 

“The bathwater is clouded with dirt and soap. I look into it and read my past. It is a difficult book. I prop it up. It flaps its pages. It is preening in the wind.” 

~ CATHY LINH CHE

[the-explorer]

moving images - text

God Stops By

to show me how healthy He’s been. He’s sleeping more. He built his own gym.

Mostly muscle now, He gives me the fat off his steak. I eat because He offers, not

because I need—it’s hard to feel hungry when everything in this world tastes small

and wrong, like rubber grapes or sun-boiled eggs. When I was small, I was certain

that what was holy was mine—I caught moths in the garden, pressed their wings

between my thickest book, and waited for new moths to sprout up and out

of the pages. I ask God if He considers me a cracked seed of grace. He says,

Yes, dear. I understand. It would be exhausting to lead a life with careful consideration

for all things—stepping over anthills, saving lizards from pools. I mean, if I was God enough

to be idolized, every statue would be a golden depiction of me riding a goose-drawn chariot,

absentmindedly resting my shepherd’s scythe an inch away from their curved white

throats. Before God leaves, He clears the table, pats my head, and presses two messages into

my palms. In my left, You are the bridge. In my right, You are the dust.

~  PAIGE LEWIS