~ Psst and Periods ~

I identify as a woman.

I grew up with three older brothers and, inso, was raised with a disposition to fight my more feminine qualities. This was caused by classic sibling rivalry and numerous confused gender associations (which we all have been affected by). My brothers hardly ever cried, they played violent video games, and they loved dirt. So, I dabbled too. And, I enjoyed these things as they did… which would be completely good if it wasn’t at the expense and debasing of girlhood.

Until I was into my late teens, I didn’t catch onto the essence of being a woman in this world and begin to dispel of my previous, inaccurate associations. It started with realizing the beauty and power which comes from being a woman, despite how overused this statement might be. My list of reasons for loving my gender has contributed to the fact that it is one of my identities that brings me the most joy in this life.

In order to capture this identity, I wanted to focus on the aspect of womanhood that was the most hard for me to come to terms with: periods. When I first got mine, I hated being a woman. I felt unlucky, at best, and became incredibly anxious every time it came. My fear, which I now look back on with a much less empathetic eye, was of people knowing that I was on it. I was terrified and I knew so little. It seemed that I could go to no woman in my life and be convinced otherwise. My mom kept the word “period” to a hushed whisper and my friends and I never talked about them.

Through time, though, my anxiety lessened and there came a point in high school where I remember actually looking forward to it. That’s just how I felt, with no explanation. After this, I began to open up or rather, to dispel of my unnecessary hush. I became comfortable and, inso, I became happier.

To demonstrate my experience, I wanted to rework a menstruation video I found directed towards young girls. Released in 1973 and funded by Johnson & Johnson, this film has the positive, naive, mysterious tone which I also recall from the woman who explained it to me and my other female classmates in 5th grade.

I reworked the footage and dialogue within this film, Naturally, A Girl (1973) and a Blooming Rose Time Lapse (public domain), with the additional instrumental help of Angel Choir Reveal by Dean Hurley and Slow 30’s Room by David Lynch.

I applied a choir to the opening sequence to demonstrate the chilling positivity which the female narrator in this film as well as the doctor who taught me gave off. And, to add to the magnitude of the occupancy this took up in my brain at the time, I wanted this sequence to be dramatic. Hence, the classic flower=vagina: a slow-motion bloom into womanhood. The adolescent’s voices overlain this represent my own hesitancy at the time.

With the anatomical description of menstruation, I decreased the duration systematically to describe my initial desire for the explanation to be over but also for none of it to be true in the first place. I wanted the words, the facts to disappear. I didn’t want to be a woman if this is what it meant.

In the final part, I wanted to describe how time healed my heightened fears and misunderstandings by keeping the duration of the cycle sped up (not lingering for nearly as long as it first did) and by decreasing the frame size with every cycle as my mind’s attachment to my period became more and more distant and calm. When the screen finally goes black, the score is soft and neutral. No unnecessary positivity or negativity lingers. It is a neutral state. And, I’ve come to terms.

~ Textual Poaching ~

~ P Is For Periods ~

~ Millie ~ A Historical Story

Lauren Brunken and Emma Spears

Based on the story of Emma’s grandparents, Hank and Millie Meierdierck, Millie takes place in Tonopah, Nevada: a small, desolate town situated between Las Vegas and Reno which is a product of both silver mining and military use. In our story, Hank and Millie are a young couple new to the town, and the bound lifestyle. When they were first married (a few years prior), they were continually moving around, seeing new places, and living a life of adventure, as they would’ve called it. But, when Hank’s military job as a test pilot and engineer in the U.S. air force takes him to Area 51 to work on the top secret SR71 Blackbird, Millie is left still and pinned in the unfamiliar, barren town of Tonopah.

We wanted to emphasize Millie’s experience and, specifically, the isolation of it. The lack of dialogue, escape, clarity and awareness were all important factors of her experience which we wanted to depict. And, leading up to Millie’s breakdown, we wanted these experiences of hers to become as overwhelmingly evident as they could within this time frame. In Neufeld’s piece, After the Deluge, this buildup is similarly done: suspending the use of dialogue until the setting is soaked in. It is of the mantra we discussed in class, “show, don’t tell.” Not until the disaster in both Neufeld’s piece and our’s  is dialogue used. We wanted the quietness and the aloneness of her life at this time to develop into something the audience could feel rather than be explained. By keeping the shots interior up to her breakdown, focussing on her face as the happy couple skids by the house, keeping her asleep through Hank’s kiss, and showing her daily routine of opening the windows upon waking up, this suffocation and entrapment is felt.

Because we decided to focus on Millie’s experience rather than on Hank’s, we wanted to keep the hint of what he does and where he goes very minimal, and perhaps even easily missed. By doing this, we felt we could more successfully emphasize the extremity of Millie’s loneliness and lack of clarity because she didn’t know either. Because of the premise of Hank’s job, he couldn’t reveal to her what his job in Area 51 was until his death bed. She merely was disclosed his location.

~ Historical Sources ~

The first historical source we used was Hank’s journal’s which was shared with Emma by her grandfather, Hank’s son. This particular journal of his is of the years, 1947-1949. In it are recorded descriptions of the different towns they lived in during those years, accounts of the daily weather (and how it affected aircraft testing), and notes about the adventures he and Millie had before been on. When reading these, even if we didn’t use each specific piece of information, we felt we were better able to understand their characters, their trials, and the world they lived in. And, it inevitably helped us decide that we needed to focus on Millie and explore what this time must’ve been like for her.

Our other historical sources we used were records of vehicles that were affordable and practical during the late 1940s, the history of the town of Tonopah, specifically during the time of aircraft development in the nearby Area 51, and records of projects and workers that were involved in Area 51, including the laws about secrecy as it pertained to their family lives.

Hambling, David et al. "Area 51'S Robotic Spy Bird." WIRED. N. p., 2017. Web. 9 Oct. 2017.

"WHAT REALLY HAPPENED IN AREA 51. | Search | HBLL." Search.lib.byu.edu. N. p., 2017. Web. 9 Oct. 2017.

"A History Of Tonopah". Archive.org. N. p., 2017. Web. 9 Oct. 2017.

Pearson, The. "Classic Car Models And Prices For Cars From The Forties." Thepeoplehistory.com. N. p., 2017. Web. 9 Oct. 2017.

~ Millie ~ (Link to Story)

Rubik's Cube

In deciding which process to document, it was largely the sound and specifically its offbeat qualities that drew both of us to the Rubik’s Cube. Without context, hearing the pace of the rotations wasn’t obviously mechanical at first but instead more organic, like the crunching of leaves. This lack of transparency is what initially made it of more interest. With the dialogue overlaying the Rubik’s cube, there is a lessened ambiguity surrounding the process. With these elements combined, we found a beauty in the process that surpasses the ending result of simply the colored block.

Apart from the mere interest of sound, we were drawn to this documentation of the Rubik’s Cube being solved because of the story behind it. Camilla, Laurel’s roommate, was taught how to solve the Rubik’s Cube by her ex-boyfriend. While they were dating, they would sit on the couch and race to see who could finish it the fastest. After they broke up, she continued to learn new techniques and strategies to become even faster. Her purpose for solving it became more personal and more focussed as she remained determined to pursue this hobby of hers. Rather than letting it drift away from her after a time, she decided to dedicate the time and the effort to this skill. For her, the joy was found through the mistakes and improvements she had made along the way.

To document this process, we wanted the recorder to be as close to Camilla’s hands as possible so as to emphasize the intricacies of the mechanical process. Much like the film Five by Mercandente, the focus on the hands reveals the subject’s mindful care in the process which brings them to their valuable result. The children representing five various religions display their own processes of worship. They meticulously take into care each step of the process, from their wardrobe to their body language. Yes, there is a difference between spiritual worship and intellectual growth, but what is had in common is the mutual time and mind commitment. Camilla doesn’t solve the Rubik’s Cube without thought or even practice. She had to learn and relearn processes in which to apply and test herself as the children in Five represent well.

Apart from recorder placement, we wanted to keep our process observational so any dialogue and diegetic sound could be more natural rather than influenced by the presence of the filmmaker. We did this by allowing Camilla and the other roommates to be where they wanted to be in the livingroom and to say/not say what they wanted. There was no formal indication from us of when to begin or end the solving process; we just let Camilla follow her usual routine and we later trimmed where we needed to from the beginning.

There are many instances where the actual process becomes more valuable than the end result. One such case is the example of Forrest Gump. In the movie, Forrest is constantly experiencing how unfair life can be. At one point he decides to propose to his childhood love, Jenny. When Jenny declines, Forrest decides to start running, and he decides not to stop. He runs and runs with no destination in mind. Along the way come supporters and marathoners, friends and bandwagoners. Forrest starts a movement that inspires many people to try things they have never done before. The beauty was found in the process as change was discovered along the way. Although a minute audio clip of a Rubik’s cube is a simple example, there is a profound message that teaches us that even the daily processes we experience can bring us the joy of a new talent, personal growth, or a new challenge to overcome.

 September Song – Agnes Obel

I’m not reminded of happiness or perfection when I listen to this piece but rather contentment and strength in awareness. I’m reminded of what can be bad and what can be hard in this life. I am reminded of the simple truism that everything is okay and I begin to believe that maybe it’s more than okay. Regarding ‘Seeing’ by Annie Dillard, which we discussed in class, it’s like being reminded of the value of pennies, and picking them up for the sake of the joy and prosperity which they will undoubtedly bring. I am happiest when I am most aware of the value in everything that exists.

What brings this reassurance is the mountains. We all have our place. No matter where it is, this one’s mine. It gives me that ‘okay’ like no where else can and I want to elaborate that in regards to this song and what it does to take me there:

The piano sounds like the sun hemming through the green trees like a tangible gem. And, it sounds like grass growing. It sounds like old, ancient, and organic things… like yellow blades of grass soaking in the most golden and precious light the sun can give. 

I played the piano when I was young and I played the violin when I was older. But, I don’t know much about rhythm and scales and all of the important things that impatient children tend to disregard. I do about tone, though. And, I know about closing my eyes and knowing if something is telling me goodness or not. This song, of all songs, surely is. The melody feels simple and it feels consistent. It brings the visualization of the words, “I’m okay” in a kind of strong and incredibly hopeful way. This is why I felt that although this piece is mightily yellow, I needed some soft and new greens to depict the hope that goes along with the reverent poise and credence that this song so completely sings. And, a little red in the end to show the strength which only comes through very, very quiet confidence.

I feel like I’m alone and I’m walking. I feel an intermission in life that doesn’t altogether exist… in a medium which is completely real and possible yet most often isn’t, because it is too magical and too good to be commonplace. It is just as much a place in the aspen forest or the open meadow as it is a feeling and a recognition within my whole self. With the coalition, I don’t think it’d make much sense for it to be more than rarely repeated. Such beautiful and good things can be scattered everywhere like pennies but I do not believe they should be commonplace. It takes a fair bit of curing within ourselves to come to moments like the one this song depicts.

The first time I listened to this song, I was with someone I love and I told them, “this song sounds like a good life.”

September Song by Agnes Obel