EXILE [Short Film]

I don’t usually explain my cinematic pieces because I want to leave room for the viewer to draw his or her own conclusion. With Exile however, I feel that there is an important lesson not to be missed that I wish to convey to you, the viewer.

The mediums with which I worked in this piece are: color, film, sound, and grief. While this is a performance art piece, all emotions expressed are real. I wanted to show just some of the spectrum of bodily reactions that PTSD and grief tend to surface in me. Emotion is my most valuable medium. It creates another dimension by unifying an individualistic experience with universal understanding. The intent with this piece is to use the frame and angles of the camera to create a cramped space – to convey that  our bodies themselves are not big enough to hold all of our feelings inside.

The most exilic spaces are the ones we keep clandestine.  Our emotions are harbors that hold aspects of our truest selves, yet we sometimes disallow them audience. If you relate to this unfortunate truth, you will have to ask yourself why this is the case. Only you can answer that question. In the piece I say one sentence over and over again. I will not tell you what I am saying. The objective is to remain unheard so that you may hear your own pain-body’s voice.

The opportunity to learn insights that only our emotions know comes from the sacred practice of release. When we release what we perceive to be pure hideousness, welcoming its presence with full consciousness, we validate ourselves and become more beautiful. If we do not listen to our emotions, we cannot listen to ourselves. In this state, our compass becomes unbalanced and we begin to toxify. The moment we are victim to expressionlessness we are unheard, done in by our own hand. The paradox is that in this particular piece, the roles of victim and victor are inextricable and mutually transmutable due to a simple act of courageous expression.

The victim is not an obscure element of humanity left under the table like dog scraps; but also the victim is not to be in full control of one’s illumined path.  At the moment of truth, when fear strikes the heart to beg and plead, the victim must be silenced by the resolve to forge on the path of white noise. We become a signal in the noise when we allow.

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