Both the shooting of the footage, and figuring out what to do with it, were very challenging. The foremost problem presented to me in the acquisition of the footage was also the element I absolutely demanded be in the film: heavy, drenching rain. I had shot “Shadow & Light” earlier, and deeper into the rainy spring season in Oregon, but was ultimately dissatisfied by my own squirrelly nature on location. I felt that I was risking too much by exposing my camera to the elements. On completion of that project, however, I realized that  I should’ve stayed longer, and endured more. Thus “Time Dilation,” which presents more context and more character than the previous film. It also has many technical errors that I committed while trying to capture as much rain on camera as possible.  The shooting took place earlier in the day than the shooting for “Shadow & Light”, so regrettably the rain wasn’t as back-lit, which is essential when trying to capture it on camera. Instead, I tried some new and stupid things: pumping the iso to the point that it coated most of the shots with a heavy grain, and also shooting in 60i frame rate, which effectively split the video resolution in half. I had been hoping that a faster recording speed would complement the higher shutter speed, but the effect, at least on my video camera, was negligible.

There are some elements I’m very proud of in this film, especially the long panning shot over the trees that I’ve made the centerpiece of the film, and the last two shots of the little pier and the man sitting beneath the umbrella, waiting for his fishing line to catch. I’ll be a little more detailed with my appreciation of the panning shot. It’s one of the few times I’ve managed to compose a movement with such depth, using the middle, fore, and background as three distinct elements –this being something I’d been challenging myself to do, to compose shots with greater range.  I also found such sheer poetry in the storm-tossed trees and leaves I was recording. I think that this elaborate shot plays well in contrast to the gravely-framed images that surround it… the unfettered core of the film.

I’d also been itching to put a Ryuichi Sakamoto song in one of my films, and I thought “Forbidden Colours”, from the unjustly overlooked Pacific Theatre WWII film, “Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence,” was a perfect complement to the moods I was trying to encapsulate herein.

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