Chicken Film

I sat in the shade of a willow tree at the farm. A quiet place washed with iridescent cracks of light through leaves. A place supercharged by our shared past. Microstructures in the light identified with my memories of this place, the people, the events and their connection to the present. Sounds of the wind. The gentle foraging of chickens. Playful guitar practicing by my daughter Lexie sitting beside me. If this place and memory and time have an iridescence, could I find a way to preserve it? Eyes left: the garden. Eyes right: the chickens. Eyes forward: Lexie and the guitar. “It’s a film!,” I exclaimed and I leapt to my feet to find my Bolex camera. Wind the camera, shoot left. Wind the camera, shoot right. Wind the camera, shoot forward. A single 100ft roll shot in that moment. Hand-processed and toned on that afternoon. A bright moment that could have been lost forever brought back to life by a projector bulb in the barn that evening. A moment I can hold in my hand. A moment needing only to be held up to the light to be shared.