The Old and New Year

Note: Those those who have inadvertently stumbled across this post, this'll all probably seem pretty inane. Just another pleb online, whining about how tough life can be as they sit in their warm house, typing away on their broadband connected laptop with stuff playing on the PS3 in the background. How can we possibly cope in this cruel world of Starbucks coffee and cheap bacon?

I don't need to justify writing in this blog, but fully understand how melodramatic it may appear. And by "may appear", I mean "is".

There are no prizes for reading any of this - I've not even glanced at it myself. There's something torcherously pleasurable in posting inane warblings without reading them back. Expect plenty of repeated words and unfinished trails of thought.

I could say this year has been tough. I wouldn't be lying, but I would be uttering the same inane words that that majority of people in first world countries love to complain about.

I could complain about work. Firstly, the soul/health destroying work I entered the year with, ultimately leading to a climactic absence of any work at all.

I could complain about all that, but I won't. I chose to work a shit job. I chose to leave it. And I chose to sit on my arse, stagnating while I wished the world around me to get better.

But that's not how things work. Life will always find a way to kick you when you're down. Good things can always crumble to dust. Most people will always be untrustworthy - Not necessarily because they're horrible people, but because we try to entrust them with too much responsibility... Without actually telling them. (Well, in my case at least.)

Things, at times, have seemed pretty bleak... But it's not all be bad. There's no point in focusing on the negative aspects of life.

..But let's do that anyway. This is the internet, after all.

This year has shown me how pointless my existence is within the world of manual labour/traditional work.

It's dealt me painful blows from family; from heart-wrenching guilt trips, to soul destroying realisations of your own unimportance to relatives, digging up painful memories of past pains.

It's shown me how little some people think of you - people you thought you could trust.

And it's dealt me some of the most gut-wrenching heart break I've ever experienced.

I've felt more alone this year than I have ever felt in my life.

But that's not all this year has been about. As hard as it has been at times, I've also been, quite possibly, happier than I've ever been.

I moved home, started setting up my own business, found new hobbies, improved old skills, invested in excellent equipment, made some films, created some music, met many new and interesting people, had one of the most amazing summers of my life, and fallen deeper in love than I think I've ever fallen. For a while, at least, I was phenomenally happy.

Looking back, that's more than I could have hoped for, really.

And I hope that when I cast nostalgic eyes on this year, I'll remember only the happy times.

Sitting in the park in my birthday during a summer festival, hung-over after the impromptu drinks with new friends the night before.

Laughing at terrible films I'd never seen, with people I felt privileged to have met.

Dancing and laughing and various parties until the sun rose.

Wandering around, admiring the beauty of new surroundings.

Filming brilliant projects and festivals, using a heap of new equipment.

Becoming managing editor of a brilliant video games website, building a steady readership and ultimately getting over 35,000 views on a single article.

Getting into photography, and losing myself within a new world.

Sent films to festivals and received greatly uplifting feedback.

Started new and interesting projects with colleagues old and new.

Cooked delicious meals I'd never cooked before.

And, most enjoyable of all, simply spending time with someone I cherished more than anyone I've ever shared my life with.

During this time I felt something I had never felt before - content. For once I didn't want to keep moving. I wasn't thinking about where I'd be next, what my next plan was or how long I'd stay put. For once in my life I'd found a place I was happy - with people around me I wanted to spend more time with. It really was alien to me this feeling, but I was finally happy to to settle down for a while and focus on what I could do right here and now.

Sadly this concept scared and confused me - like a meandering kitten wandering aimlessly across a road. I didn't know at the time whether to stay safe at the side, or do what I always do and wander blindly into traffic.

Once I had finally realised what I wanted, though, it was too late. Things were changing rapidly, and I couldn't keep up. Through the good times spawned bad.

It seemed the better things were and the happier I became, the less I could handle it. My self-destructive nature and recent emotional hardships caused simple changes in my life to backfire; imploding on themselves until I'd unknowingly pushed away everything I held dear to me.

As bad as things seemed, I still had things to latch on to. I started foolishly clinging to false hope, desperately attached to the notion that things could simply go back to the way they were, when things seemed simpler. Happier. I was stagnating in a world of fantasy, leaving my life on pause while I waited for things to fix themselves. But, as stated in the forth paragraph, that's not how things work in this world.

For things to change, we need to make change. I needed to make changes.

Things may have been tough, but things have been tough before. I've been through hardships and heart-breaks. I've gained and lost friends, learnt the hard way who I could and couldn't trust. I've failed at things in the past.

But I've also succeeded. And I've only succeeded when I've refused to give up.

By focusing on all the negativity in my life, I'd forgotten about everything good. Or, more importantly, everyone good in my life.

Times felt tough, but there was always someone over the phone to talk to. A call, a text, an email, a letter... That's all I needed to pull me through. And there were certain people still around me I could trust - people right under my nose that I could confide in, that would listen to all my belly-aching without judgement. People that have always been here when I've truly needed them, but were momentarily lost to my narcissistic pessimism.

Like the feeble protagonist in a spin-off to a Disney film, I realised that all I needed were these close friends all along. Old school friends, university pals, house mates, Tinman, Scarecrow, the entire cast of Care Bears... All with me as soon as I needed them, without me even having to ask. I won't name these friends here - as much as I appreciate their help throughout absolutely everything in life, it just somehow seems tacky to name them. Nor do I want to offend people by not listing them. Plus, there has been a plethora of other people who have shown their friendship in other ways.

Besides, I'm sure these friends know I'm talking about them anyway.

Except you, Reuben.

I've got strong plans and convictions for 2012. Normally I just have a vague plan of at least 1 thing I want to achieve in the year to come - something I often fail to remember, let alone attempt to accomplish.

I've got film projects in the pipeline, involving things I've never done before. I've started developing ideas for films with old colleagues, experimenting with different mediums. I've invested in plenty of new film and lighting equipment, meaning I can finally shoot the things floating around my mind, as well as making better projects with others.

I've started focusing more on music, too, improving my current "skills", developing and improving music I've created new and old. I've started learning how to edit and manipulate recordings, and even started learning new instruments.

Creative writing - a long term passion of mine that's inexplicably lay dormant in recent years - is coming back with great vengeance. My mind is once again a whirl of inspiration, spurring my fingers on to slap the keyboard in all manners of nonsensical ways. Suddenly, colourful explosions at the edges of my mind are seeping into my peripheral vision, forming swirling masses of images and words, begging to be written down, or scrawled into a notepad with crude, child-like pictures etched over the pages.

As well as all of this creativity floating around, I've just been given some fantastic news. My oldest and dearest friend recently asked if I could be the best man at his wedding late next year. I almost choked up with honour that he even thought to choose me. Not only was he the reason I had one of the greatest Christmas's of my life this year, he's also given me something to focus on into 2012 - and the perfect opportunity to finally visit Edinborough. (Hopefully my best man speech won't be as erratically irrelevant as this).

So, once again, thank you... Nameless friend.

(Wanless)

So I relish the harsh times ahead. They'll happen regardless, so I might as well embrace them. Learn from them. And if possible, in some masochistic way, enjoy them.

There's no point wallowing in self pity. Not everything happens for a reason. Things happen, both good and bad. They're coming. You probably don't see them coming, but they're there, lurking around the corner, ready to strike when you're most content.

I need to be at peace in my own mind, it seems, before I can truly be happy. That's not a new years resolution – it's just something I should have done a long time ago. But now, things have changed. I've changed.

2012 - come at me, bro.

Christmas 2011

It's been a rough few months. I've been wallowing around, not sure what the future holds for me - stuck in an unsure place, fixated on past happiness and too scared to move on.

I locked myself away for a month or so. Barely leaving the house, and accomplishing very little in the process. I had some very tough decisions to make about my future; what are my options? What do I want? And can I do it without certain people behind me?

I now know my options. I know what I want. But I don't know if I can go through with it without certain people by my side. I've finally got to a point in my life where I know what I want, and it's well within my grasp to accomplish it... But there are things outside of my control that will affect the outcome, and my decision on what to do next.

This lack of control has thrown me. I moved away to be more in control of my life - to make the decisions I couldn't make before, to finally empower myself to do the things I've always wanted. I never thought I could be brought to my knees so easily. I never thought that a decision that could change the rest of my life could fall so brutally in my hands - one which was so alien to me so many joyous months ago. But here we are.

Being alone at Christmas was never the plan. We were set to feast on steak and enjoy the merriment of fresh friendships, new traditions and welcoming families of friends. But snowballed events can effect every aspect of a snow-less Christmas.

As stubborn as it may have been, I still stuck to my word. I wasn't to head home at Christmas. I said I'd be down south, and here I sat, as alone as an atheist can be this time of year.

At first I was fine with the idea - hell, it was my idea to begin with so I should be, (albeit it more lonely than originally intended) waking up with all the days company in one bed; though the not so surprising solitude was less than comforting today.

Emotions rose and fell throughout the morning, depressing me with the thoughts of traditions this Christmas I would miss, and cheering me up with the thoughts of traditions this Christmas I would miss. A shower and a change of clothes would be absent on this, the most sacred of days - Sunday; the day in which normal people indulge in the slobbish festivities we unemployed call a weekday.

So alone I sat, wallowing in self pity on the settee (it was the weekend, after all). That is, until I remembered the plan.

A month or so ago, my friend Wanless sent me a curious package; a large envelope, containing a single DVD - the most important DVD of my life.To most it would seem pointless, the rest would probably disregard it entirely, but that one DVD contained what could only be described as my fondest memories on this earth.

I first started making films in high school with a few close friends. Being the only person with a camera, and the only one with an interest in editing, I was involved in making plenty of amateur productions. As such, we played around with film making for a few years, unwittingly carving the path towards my future career.

Though the memories themselves may not have been my fondest, the films cast my mind back to the time I fell in love with film making. And I was terrible at it. We all were. But I've scarcely had more fun devising plots, filming friends and editing memories.

And so, a plan was born. On Christmas day I would watch every film I've ever made (or at least those I had a copy of) in order. From Nerd Hunter to Pineapple of the Dragon, Trautman to Technical Difficulties, with a few Spence Mcfarlane Eruption webisodes in between.

Although the morning felt rough, I forced myself to put in the DVD. What the hell was I doing? Sitting here, alone, in a big, cold, empty house, watching shit I'd filmed before I could grow facial hair? I honestly couldn't imagine how much lower I could sink in my pathetic life.

...So I hit "Play".

And within moments, as the first few words were uttered in our first film, I smiled. Then I laughed. Nothing funny had happened, but just he memories of making that film overwhelmed me. And I laughed harder than I've laughed in a long, long time.

The next film came on, and it was even better. And the next. And the next. Films which I would never show anyone - films so bad I could re-make a fraction of the length, with most of the "jokes" cut out. But with that, they'd lose their soul. Our soul. My soul.

I scoured my hard drive for every scrap of film that had left my memory as I had aged. Music montages I'd made at new years eve with my first girlfriend and friends. Music videos I'd cut together from footage of friends playing acoustic guitar when we were 16. "Special effects" editing I'd made my friends doing martial arts to the Benny Hill theme. Old poetry, thoughts, feelings - everything that made me me, immortalized in some way. All forgotten, but all there.

Each video, although technically terrible on their own, showed me my roots. I could see the foundations of the film-making motifs I was carving for myself. Without realising it, everything I had done in the past was directly influencing my future - in film making terms, at least.

This became even more clear once I moved onto watching my university projects. Although my technical abilities had vastly improved by first year, I could still see my history in everything I had made.

Moving onto the university stuff also showed me what influences those around me had. Each project was unique due to the variety of talent around me. Even the projects I resented at the time, and people I may have held in contempt, seems beautifully sublime in context.

I watched these memories all day and night, until I'd reached the end of the line. The elusive ellipsis flirtatiously looming into the future.

And now I sit, still alone, still Christmas - but happier than I've felt in a long while. Not that I haven't been happy - a few months ago I felt happier than I've ever felt before - but this happiness feels... different. Happiness in knowing that this isn't the end. I'm still learning. I'm still growing, both as a film maker and, pretentiously, a person.

When the new year comes I've still got some hard decisions to make. I know my options, and I know what I want... But I can't wait around forever. If looking through my memories has taught me anything it's that waiting around for change has never helped. I need to make change. Nothing is certain, and happiness is wherever I can make it. I know it's never as simple as that, but I can't just give up. I stupidly felt all happiness was lost... but all it took was one DVD from the dearest of friends to remind me who I am.

As my friend Shorty used to introduce me to folk -

"His name is Spence. He makes films."

My name is Spence. And I make films.