Deragh Campbell - Where Did Our Love Go // super 16 mm short film I wrote and directed - more soon!
I ran sound on this magic little film last week.
I was stung by a bee on the bottom of my foot last weekend. We were barefoot in a grass field. I felt pain as though I’d stepped on a piece of discarded metal. The bee was there and, I assume, trying to free himself from my sole where the stinger was lodged. To remove the bee was to separate body from stinger, and I stared at his remaining appendage while the sensation of pain began to realize. I also wanted to show the others, who offered ice and furrowed brows. On the way home we stopped by a bridge and stripped naked to swim in the stream.
Occasionally I’ll browse through my computer harddrive, organized with varying levels of efficiency. I have old writings, video clips, and photographs. At the time it never feels important to order by date, so folders can feel like my bedroom and shelves and closet space. When I would go home for holidays, the first order of business would be to locate a totem of memory; for example a strange piece of cloth that was stored in the bottom drawer of my bureau had no real origin or meaning other than to remind me of space and time and smell and size. When we sold the house 5 years ago I cried for those memories I would no longer be able to conjure.
I don’t much remember that day in the park with you. I think Lola wore a funny motorcycle helmet with her BMX bike. That dusty baseball diamond in the park was good and used. I remember the photographer and how he set up his single flash on a flimsy tripod and the wind knocked it over and we thought it might have broken. I remember you laughing or longing or lifting a small ball to dropkick in my direction. But you didn’t seem sad.