The recollection of a childhood image was dear to me; I held it tight in my mind believing it to be real. However, when presented with the actual negative, I felt betrayed, for it was not the same. I knew that the negative portrayed the truth and that my memory was just clouded; yet I was conflicted and I viewed my negatives as fictitious narratives that held no more importance.
So in response I decided to dispose of them in an industrial paper shredder…
This was no impulsive decision; I took my time and made further comparisons, only to be more certain with my destructive design. I managed to look beyond their function and focus more on their form. I started to treat them as mere tangible objects and handled them accordingly, thus shedding any last emotive connection to them.
I reviewed all 10157 frames, taking in their appearance and form and then organising them into their respective formats. I then weighed each pile in an attempt to further quantify their physicality and perceived mnemonic weight. Once shredded, the piles were photographed on a light box with a rostrum camera. A final chaotic snapshot of my celluloid memories is all that remains.