I met Ken and his daughter Alaia last year and since then we have become very close (that sounds like
such an understatement). Our very first conversation was about society and documentaries…interestingly enough, for what else has changed?
Much.
Last month we started talking about story-telling, and the act of discovering one's life. Meanwhile, throughout all the time we've spent together – having coffee, random excursions, dinner at my place, sessions at his, and driving (lots!) we have been telling our stories. Maybe I do more listening sometimes, or maybe Ken opens his ears alternately to receive the spoken stream of my life. And often we talk while Alaia listens in the back-seat or in our homes, asking Ken questions about his past, and Ken will sift through what he remembers and tries to understand in a way that Alaia will understand. I have never known him to hide anything from his child.
In this way we came to start on this project, filming our conversations and lives. It's become apparent that there's an immense investment in getting to know oneself…and the process of trust and honest disclosure to the mirror of oneself (of 'I' to 'You', or 'You' to 'I' – in a way, that begins to happen the deeper one opens into friendship: the moment
I see Myself in You). Our own lives are just so curious, strange, often troubling, but luminous as well, and illuminating.
This is an honest accounting. Not a single lie passes our lips in communion and dialogue with each other. I consider this a rare gift.
Ken, Alaia and Kajin Make A Film is an on-going process that may stretch to the end of our lives, whoever passes first, and may well continue beyond us. Because Alaia is making this film too, not only by participation, but by shooting with Ken's iPhone at times. And who knows, perhaps she will continue with this when we are gone.
This is the first clip I'm posting, witnessed this past Tuesday, November 15, 2011. There are others, to be shared as 'open' documents, without edits. Eventually whatever we record will one day be compiled into a series of 'films' or what they call 'documentaries', but I myself think of this as more of an ongoing, open-ended family portrait, or simultaneous autobiography-biography at the same time. It's also a voyage of discovery (like life itself).
I'm thinking lots these days of the lens of the camera (at this point, a humble $99 Kodak Zi8) as an instrument of truth and healing, of honest accounting, of 'effortless' witness, and of activating transformation.
I think, perhaps, I'm beginning to reveal or discover myself to be more of a Daoist than formally considered. The 'artist' as good Daoist – I like embracing that practice!
:) K
Here's a description of the clip above:
Ken and Kajin go to Port Moody - November 15 2011
We went to PoCo so Ken could meet with Angelo at Coquitlam Mall. Kajin met Angelo for the first time, and they really hit it off. We had a great, long, involved discussion in the food court, talking about the public school system, society and children. Ken ate from the salad bar, then Kajin got super-hungry and ordered a lemon grass chicken to go from the Vietnamese. We bid adieu to Angelo, then Kajin ate his lunch in the parking lot. We now had money (because before we were broke) so we drove to an off-license and spent some time choosing a bottle of red. We opted for the Cono Sur from Chilé, Pinot Noir, an organic grape, vintage '09. We thought of buying plastic cups, but the lovely cashiers gave us each green-sleeve glasses from the Rolling Rock Extra Pale Ale Company. We got back in the car and Ken talked about being a dad, Alaia, her school, his concerns about the way her teacher was treating her. We then drove to the Salmon Hatchery at PoMo, got a little lost, but back-tracked and entered. Kajin forgot his smokes so we went back to the parking lot and then into the park, on the trail, at which point Kajin switched his camera on. The light captured seemed wrong so they tried a new trick filtering the lens with Kajin's sunglasses. It worked better, and now the screen looked closer to the light cast by the day onto the forest and trail. We went to the bridge, and talked about our fathers, the wine we were drinking, Ken's mother, and watched the sun leave.
This film is dedicated to the spirits of Ken Andrew Hopkins and Goh Poh Seng, and to Ken's mom Linda (Hopkins, Gibson or Durkey). If anyone watching knows who or where she is please let us know.
kakfilms@gmail.com
kakfilms.blogspot.com/
Love, K, A and K, 2011
