One of the easiest things to take for granted is the places we call home. We never think about the fact that at some point, there will be a final time we walk out the door. The house we’d come to know so well over the years slowly fades from our memories, and years later we struggle to remember the place we never thought we’d forget. What did the living room look like? What did the trees lining your backyard look like, swaying in the wind? The details slip away, and it might leave you wishing you had something to remember it by.
My family is selling our house later this year, and my aim with this project was to document my home and the surrounding area to avoid totally losing it to memory after I move out. I wanted to capture my house on video, recording it in a way that still images can’t quite achieve. Without motion there’s something missing, and it doesn’t quite feel like the living, breathing place it did at the time. In the end, it’d be something to look back on and, hopefully, allow me to reminisce on the twenty years I spent here.
Sadly, and somewhat poetically, I got caught by the same forces I aimed to counteract. Shortly into filming, I came home one day to find a wall missing, and a floor covered in construction equipment. My parents started renovating earlier than I anticipated, and my house was rapidly transitioning from the place I’d lived in for twenty years to the new start it would become for the next family. The project underwent a similar transition, from a presentation of what my home had been to a documentation of what it was becoming. Familiar, different, and not mine.