media communcation

Venice:

• Sounds of rain dripping
• People chattering in piazza
• walks to and from hostel
• footage of people walking
• footage of kids playing soccer in the street
• footage of shadows

So far the footage has been limited but the layers are coming together.

I struggled to set myself the guidelines within which I would begin to develop my media for this first exercise.
However, faced with the prospect of having to focus in and notice things around me sparked an existing interest in light, shadows, movement, stillness and reflection.
Creating boundaries was and is still difficult for me but I  decided to set alarms on my phone to remind myself to notice.
Already quite an observant person, I found that the act of actively noticing was something that I had to adjust to, as most things tend to go ‘unnoticed’ in that I don’t document all my findings by taking a photo or recording them.

10am:
I found myself on my way to work as my first buzzer went off, cutting through to the park near my house to avoid the icy wind. I saw a puddle of water on the cobble below and noticed that by looking down how I could delve deeper into my environment and take in more of my surrounds.
It was a glimmer of light that first caught my eye as soon as the alarm went off.
I used my dslr to frame different shots, noticing angles of the houses around me that took on a new perspective now that I was focusing.
The light breeze created ripples that looked to charge the reflection with a surge of power, creating new dimensions and perspectives – it was just so simple and captivating.
The process of elimination is another element of noticing that interests me. What is it that we deem interesting, worth noticing and worthy of accumulating or sharing?
I feel noticing is an intrinsically personal a thing. Why did I notice this puddle and opt to ignore something else?

I’m also drawn to shadows and lights that take their narrative and cast it onto a new surface to create an entirely new one.
Take a tree on Cardigan street, the wind rustling through its branches. I can see the textures of the wood clearly, the grain and the coarseness of its branches, their wirey tendrils reach out across the road, making pathways for the birds that perch themselves high up there. Their plumage is clearly visible from where I stand, I can take in the textures, sounds, movements and the infinite three-dimensional details of the scene.

When you add sunlight to the equation, it trickles through the branches and casts a silhuouette onto the wall opposite, painted soft pink, the branches are simplified to a soft grey shadow – the entire scene is now a two-dimensional, un-choreographed shadow puppet show.
By no means reduced in that it is lesser than 3D, just simplified, opening up a new avenue for exploration.
The branches dance across the wall, now appearing a soft custard yellow, bathed in sunlight, the colours and story begins to evolve, adapt and change.
It becomes a poetic display of nature, without texture or detail, it’s now a rhythm and dance of the branches and birds. The lights and shadows perform a ritual of day to day – therein lies my interest in the intricacies of simplicity.