ParcelForce insist that my camera gimbal is still yet to be scanned, but it is not yet lost in transit. It's about 40 something days in since it left England, and my patience has disappeared, as far as I am concerned, it's gone. Whether it ever does arrive or not, well, it's no longer something that is going to stop me from taking what I want. For too long I sat waiting for the gimbal, telling myself that once it arrives I'll really get out and pursue the videography side of things. Some slight disappointment already at the fact that Christmas decorations appeared throughout the city of Yerevan, with limited ability to capture it. I love photography, but sometimes my videography side just calls to me, the moments of regular life that show signs of cinematic beauty to me.
A bus ride through the city, through the rough roads of the outskirts. The patchy old and new buildings made with an earthly stone. Passing by people each going about their lives, standing waiting for a bus, walking through various shops for household items. I think it's because I've always been a bit more introverted, but I tend to be quite an emotional and observational person, always watching out of windows and curious as to what's going on in the world around me. I look at those who walk by, who sit by me, that I hold brief interactions with that may never take place again. I think of who they are, what they do, what they feel and what they're thinking.
I think some of these limitations I had recently also spans into a lack of preparation on my part. I arrived in Armenia with a single backpack, with maybe two t-shirts, all clothing for Istanbul's warmer weather. Winter rolled in fast here, and without the right clothing, getting out felt more difficult. For photography things felt faster. That I had no time to really stand and observe like I'd usually want to. Recently I picked up a new coat and some very expensive boots that allow me to stay warm, and also dry in the colder weather. Where the mornings are now met with a thick layer of ice on the floor, toes no longer freezing over within minutes of stepping out of the front door.
The first day I purchased these new clothing items, it began to snow. We went into the city, already feeling that newfound warmth, wrapped up tightly and cozy on the old bus. The seats soft, the steam building up on the windows, droplets of water that allowed for brief moments of vision to the outside world. For the most part it had a bokeh effect, bright and colourful lights dancing as the bus moved by. No rhythm to it, but beautiful to watch without thought.
The snow was met with thick ice, it melted upon impact, puddles formed and added a mirror to the city's beautiful night scenes. Purple tones, pinks and blues. The sound of impact on the ground and my coat was one of the most relaxing things I've experienced in months, I stood with the camera, looking around. Like a moth on mushrooms, even more attracted to the pretty lights that surround, uncertain which ones to run off to. Faces around were covered, buried in coats and scarfs. Christmas music played by stores, an ice skating ring nearby held people flowing in a circular fashion. It felt like Christmas, but one that I had never really experienced before.
Even before this, the city felt different. More blue, more comfortable. Like everything had managed to slow down a little, even in the cars that often beep their horns and pass by, they too felt slow and displaying a slow dancing of light.
From the apartment window I stood for a moment, looking out, feeling those emotions and thoughts again: who are these people? Where are they going? What are they doing? And would I ever find a way to capture the unique stories and emotions on film? It sort of dawned upon me that I had to start shooting everything, and that even if it was a little rough and the video wasn't completely stable, that might even add something to it. Removing some of that perfectionism that I annoyingly feel sometimes, especially with a bit of a hiatus from filming personal things. My last real little short being some bored video with a drone I made one day with leftover footage.
With photography and filmmaking, the two aren't really something you can plan to do. You sort of just need to get out and start doing it. Sure, you can have a general plan or idea of what you might want to capture, but the only way to do so is to get out and actually do it. We often forget this with everything in life, the realisation that action speaks. Rather than just holding plans.
Photography is a great way to realise this and get back into things. It really does open your eyes to the world, showing you what matters, keeping you a bit humbled and aware of the fragility of life, not necessarily your own, but all things. The gentle nature of a tree in winter, the leaves on the ground as they turn crisp and orange. A stray dog that sits outside a butcher shop, patiently waiting for that generous next meal. Life continues on in many different ways when we aren't really noticing it. Time passing whether we are prepared for what's next or not.
I guess in some ways it's a little zen. That aspect of philosophy that has you considering all things.
In a few days I'll be editing a little video over the course of a day's events. I'm pretty excited getting back into it. Though I feel I have a bit of learning to do again, not that I mind it. It's all part of the fun of creating something.