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.
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.
I was quite hoping you weren't dead. Love ya Spence. Hope things look up for you soon.
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