Trying to explain who I am seems to be a theme throughout much of my work at Ryerson so far. I think it's been particularly important to revisit this question frequently, as I'm still unsure and am constantly exploring what it means to be "me." That said, I decided to approach this project slightly differently -- instead of looking at who I am now, I looked at who I was, and from that, sampled one isolated feeling I'm presently carrying.
In this case, I recollected the memories of my childhood -- you know, things like the Saturday morning cartoons I anxiously woke up early for, or my plethora of action figures, or the hours I spent playing my Game Boy and not feeling like I'm wasting my time. But I think what really got to me as I thought back to my childhood was this really simple raw feeling, of which I'm not sure how to describe. As I reflected, I tried to remember the point where I stopped feeling "it," and as you might I expect, I didn't recall any distinct moment. It's a gradual process, growing up.
So I made some art to encapsulate that feeling.
I first created the audio, attempting to capture a sense of vulnerability (that you'll hopefully hear in the piano part). I did this for a couple of reasons: firstly, childhood is of course a relatively vulnerable time for anyone. I kept the melody simple but "weak" to try and demonstrate that feeling. Additionally, the vulnerability of the melody doubles as a moment in the present, where I reflect on the past and remember that I have forgotten about it . Here are the other elements of the music explained:
- The solid tone in the background is the "echo" of the past, unclear but consistent and always lurking into the present.
- The "glitches" in the background are there to create fragility and imperfection; we do tend to over-glorify the past, and remembrance is quite the delicate and imperfect phenomenon.
- About 30 seconds in there's a very quiet chiptune sound: it's a sample from Pokemon Red/Blue, the sound when you begin a trainer battle. This was thrown in to anchor some small part of my childhood into the music itself.
- Finally, the simple percussion that progresses halfway through the song is the passage of time. It's my tour guide through life, and it doesn't stop for anything. Towards the end of the song, beats grow more and more distant from one another; this is how I feel about growing up in retrospect, as the past and the present always seem to grow further and further away with each chapter in life.
With the audio complete, I had to find a way to portray this vulnerability physically. The challenge here was to create something that was a throwback to my past, but also to represent my feelings in the present. To make a long story short, I eventually took the oldest toy I had, a doll of the Red Ranger from Mighty Morphin Power Rangers, cut through its "heart" with a pair of scissors, ripped out the stuffing occupying that area, and inserted a note encapsulating my feelings inside.
Of course the action behind it is relatively simple -- the execution was not. At least at first.
Here's some back story: I recently moved and had to considerably downsize my toy collection, along with the rest of my belongings. The toys I did bring with me all had some kind of sentimental value or other importance, and my Red Ranger doll was no exception. I was a fan of Power Rangers before I was a fan of anything else, ever, and this was the first Power Rangers toy I had. What better way to reflect on my childhood then to go back to the first thing I geeked out about?
The action of cutting my Red Ranger was a little bit difficult, but of course that's where the real essence of the art is. I struggled to make the first cut, but once I had ruined the doll a little it became dramatically easier. I feel like growing up is a similar experience -- new challenges will always arise, but they become easier as you go through them.
Inside my Red Ranger I inserted a note on lined paper, saying: "I forgot what it felt like. When I remembered, it was too late."
When I realized my childhood and my life were no longer the same thing it was already gone. This gentle fear of never being able to go back can be a little challenging at times, but it becomes easier as you move forward.
Did my story sound a little mushy? Well too bad, that's art.
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