Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Documenting What's Really Important


I'm working on a documentary and with it, like all good artistic projects for me, comes a lot of reflection.

The documentary is on my ex-guy's band, and my thesis is: What does it means to be in a band before anyone really knows who you are? Why do you believe in it and stick with it year after year? What does it mean to commit to a group of people and project? What does success mean and when will you know you've reached it?

I've been thinking a lot about what makes us do the things we do: with projects, with people, with work, with anything that we commit to...

Watching tape after tape of this band...of their family and friends...of my observance and interviews...I can't help but think of how much fun it is...how much love there is for the art and the work and the relationships...and how I've captured a lot of great footage on a rinky dink camera that I borrowed from a friend. Its intimate, its real...things I don't think I would have achieved if I had gone out and bought or even rented a nice HD camera. What I have instead is something real that I think a lot of people will appreciate. And I've not spend much money on it, or bought any large props for it...but I've spent time and love and thought. And those are always worth more to me at the end of the day.

-Courtney

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Lost & Found

I lost my wedding ring.

When I realized it wasn’t on my finger I was pretty sure I had left it at the yoga studio. (I have a bad habit of taking it off during practice and placing it next to my mat – only this time I must have forgotten to put it back on.) When I retraced my tracks it was nowhere to be found.

A brief call to my insurance company revealed that our policy’s deductible was higher than the value of the ring, therefore I would not be receiving any funds to aid in the purchase of a replacement.

So, I spent a month without wearing a wedding ring and had no urgent plans to replace it. On a whim, I wondered into a local jewelry store and ended up buying a very simple estate ring, circa 1940. I was absolutely delighted with the substitute.

(I hate to admit it, but before this project I would have most likely thrown a hissy fit about losing my ring, marched to the nearest jewelry store, and bought (probably on credit) a new ring that was even nicer than the one I lost. Thus, I considered the whole ordeal to be a blessing and my reaction to be progress.)

Two weeks after I purchased the “new” ring my friend Katie was cleaning the yoga studio and found my original under a shelving unit!

I’m glad, of course, that my ring was found, but I learned some important things from the experience of losing (if just temporarily) a material item that holds a personal meaning:

1. I need to be more present. If I were paying more attention to what I was doing I wouldn’t have lost the ring in the first place.
2. Even a wedding ring (though a symbol of something bigger) is just a thing. And like with all “things” can be replaced.
3. I will never buy new jewelry again, as vintage pieces are cheaper and often more interesting. (A fact that I had never contemplated until this project.)
4. Fully insuring fine jewelry makes sense.
5. I’ll keep my ring on during asana practice even if it bugs me in headstand.
6. Some men actually do check to see if you are wearing a wedding ring, but that these are typically not the kind of men one wants to associate with.

~Stacey