one-minute vacation
 
30fpd: a day, a week, a year

On January 8, 2003, I began making a movie of my life, one second at a time.

I carry a small digital camera with me everywhere I go. I document everything I encounter: the banal, the sublime, the beautiful, the stultifying, the grotesque, the familiar.

Every day — so far without fail — I take at least thirty digital pictures. From each day's pictures, I select thirty which in consecutive order well-document the day; these become exactly one second of film at 30fps. For each year, the movie grows by six minutes; in ten years, I will have almost exactly an hour to show for my life.

WIth as much honesty, attention, and disclipline as I have I am trying to document what is visible in my life.

The public debut of this project was in installation form in February 2005 at New York's Synchronicity Space in T-minus 2005, a show of media work exploring the passage of time through time-lapse and related processes. It's also been shown as a video with other experimental films.

 

as paredes têm ouvidos
flostam resonance #1
a day, a week, a year
field effects concert series
annapurna: memories in sound
quiet, please
serendipity machines
kolam
urban cycles
other recordings


February 9, 2003, two days after I was doored and broke my collarbone. My hospital ID bracelet was still on when I woke up past noon.

The film — currently just over thirty minutes long — has properties I hoped it might. At 30fps, images flash by so quickly that there is no hope of seeing them all. It is impossible to interpret them or construct a coherent narrative, though patterns present themslves: my compositional ticks are maddeningly apparent, for example.

Yet individual images continually emerge clearly: a face, a word, a place, a landscape... but even as each of these is identified and named, another and then another again is supplanting it, relentlessly.

This is a film with many subjects. One of them is process: the process of its making, of course; but also the processes of perception and cognition; the process of memory.

I once considered naming the final movie Mnemosyne, after the spring of memory: it is a media object not unlike that river, full and fast moving and perilous. (It is quicksilver, and will never give up more than a fraction of itself.)

The pictures I shoot beyond the necessary thirty are archived and may be compiled into a second film containing every single image I shoot. At present I am averaging just under 125 images a day.

It may come as a surprise that I have not yet settled on a soundtrack.

To support this and my other projects, I am selling the days of my life.

A 'day' is a set of digital prints, one each of the thirty images that document my life on that day, from waking to sleep. Each set is packaged in a small protective box and signed.

Only one copy of each day is available. Some days document events not suitable for all viewers.

If you're interested in purchasing a day, write me to inquire about availability and pricing.