Though in the beginning I was nervous, fumbling my introduction as a writer and a “muddler,” which roughly translates to “a mother of a toddler” or “one who muddles introductions”. An apt Freudian slip, I’d say, an open expression of anxiety concerning the permanence of video, the conversation recorded, staying still, my appearance as I speak and gesticulate.
But Kelsey is calming, alluring. With a tranquilizing presence, you want to confide.
It was as though I’ve known her a very long time, when in reality, I’ve only known her since this blog’s inception. She’s then only known me through my writing. And yet despite my usual inclination toward neurosis, I was excited in the eyes of the unblinking lens.
I wished it were endless. I wished I were beside her somewhere on the bare earth, talking, absorbing, challenged, sated.
Afterwards I wanted a cigarette. Today I stole one of my mother’s and enveloped myself in an imaginary night, laying myself on the internet, for better or worse.
This project fascinates me. Watching her give other readings satisfies the voyeur, and not cheaply so. She calls this project “deeply humane” and it is. Her subjects are painfully human. They’re honest. They struggle. Their problems flick across their faces with every insight. Flashes they keep hidden. Now sewn onto their skin and forever caught, archived, are able to be studied. And for this I am immensely grateful. I want to relive these insights, peer further, deeper, go into them, transform and coddle them.
While the subjects know they’re being taped, the other is still ever-present but recedes into the relaxed and familiar landscapes of video communication. It’s not the same as speaking into the big black void of a lens. I was home. I was myself. Eventually forgetting the world outside of Kelsey and my pulsing life questions. I felt clear and charged, revealing possibly more than I should have on the internet, which is exactly what should have happened.
In other words, I couldn’t recommend this, her more.
*Just as truth has nothing to do with theory, with literature, or with life. To quote Pontius Pilate, “What is truth?”