Monday, February 4, 2013

Genealogical Artifact








         

            I don’t remember that beautiful box set not being there.  From the beginning of my memory it has existed.  It has always been there for me whenever I needed it.  And believe me.  I needed it.  Anytime I was sick, or sad, or simply in need of a dose of pure happiness in the form of a TV screen, it was there. 
            Our TV was in our living room, on a big black stand that had cupboards on each side.  The cupboard doors were speaker covers in case one felt inclined to put speakers in those spaces, but we packed layers of movies in there.  Due to the size of the box set, and its frequent use, it was always front and center; I never had to go digging for it. 
I could never simply insert the tape into the VHS without taking a few moments to admire the box.  I gazed upon the gold tinted image that was the epitome of excitement.  The black eyes gazed into mine, and I felt a giddy chill.  I read the words and took a deep breath… Star Wars Trilogy: Special Edition.  I then removed the cover of the box, grimacing at the squeak the box made as it slid across itself.  Three tinier boxes lay within and the decision was sometimes difficult.  Chronology had nothing to do with it.  “Do I want to watch Wampas, Taun-tauns, and a snow battle, or Ewoks, Stormtroopers and Darth Vader killing Sidious?” I wondered.  This was the type of criteria I used to distinguish the films.
Regardless of which one I chose, I spent the next few hours in pure contentment, lying on my back on the floor instead of on the couch because that’s just how I rolled.  I gloried in speeder chases, lightsaber duels, space battles, the force, wookies, nerf-herders and everything in between.  I took no notice of Greedo shooting first, the added special effects or a random musical number in Jabba’s Palace, because no other Star Wars existed for me before that.
And then 1999 came, and along with it, The Phantom Menace.  And guess what?  I adored this movie.  Pod-racing, Darth Maul, Qui-Gon-Jinn, and a giant space station exploding?  What wasn’t to like for a 6 year old Star Wars fan?  I even though Jar-Jar Binks was absolutely hilarious.  I had a glow-in-the-dark shirt of Jar-Jar Binks.  I was filled to the brim with jealous envy for Anakin.  Why couldn’t Liam Neeson come to my elementary school and tell me my midichlorian count was high enough that I could go off and be a Jedi?  And nearly every other kid my age felt the same.  For birthdays I received plastic lightsabers, the N64 pod-racing game, and action figures.  I dressed up as Anakin for Halloween.
 This absolute bliss went on for sometime.  Then I got older and I started hearing things about my beloved prequels.  Older people were saying that they sucked.  They were calling them a disgrace to the original trilogy.  I began to feel conflicted… Was I wrong to like these movies?  Was I wrong to think Jar-Jar was funny, that Anakin was a legitimate pre-Darth Vader, and that these movies were just as entertaining as the old ones I’d been brought up on?  Was I a true Star Wars fan? 
The answer is yes.  George Lucas made those films for my generation and me.  I can understand why the old grumpy nerds don’t like them, but get out of my freaking face about it.  These movies are my childhood and I adore them… all six.  I respect and thank Mr. Lucas for bringing to me such a rich universe that fueled my imagination and led me to be as creative and hopeful a person as I could be.  I don’t blame the others for being loyal to their own childhood, and they certainly can’t blame me for being loyal to mine.

Artist’s Statement

            There were A LOT of objects from my childhood I could’ve chosen from.  Everything from Nintendo 64 controllers to a Digital Blue camera to the VHS player I watched my movies on, such as Star Wars and The Lion King.  I would not put any of these objects above the other in importance or the amount of time I spent with them, but eventually settled on my Star Wars box set.  Why?  Well it was truly a toss-up between the Nintendo artifacts and the box set because each has had a lasting effect on me in addition to the numerous hours I spent with them as a child.  Somehow I decided on Star Wars, thinking this might be relatable to more people than the Nintendo, but I think that’s up for debate.
            One of our readings was a poem by Pablo Neruda in which he writes, “they were so close that they were a part of my being, they were so alive with me that they lived half my life and will die half my death.”  I think this rings true for the artifacts that mean so much to us in our lives, these objects that we hold onto because to us, they are priceless.  I don’t mean to say that I’m such a Star Wars geek that the mythology has become integrated into my life to the point where I will die half-assured that I’m a Jedi.  These stories have however, molded me into who I am today.  Because of these films I was able to establish my interests from a young age and gain friends with similar interests.  These interests expanded far beyond anything Star Wars as I learned to be hopeful, imaginative, creative and true to myself. 
            The idea of an object being held onto and cherished by people can be seen in many narratives.  Everything from the locket Joe has in Super 8 to the trinkets collected by Scout in To Kill A Mockingbird, and maybe even to Rosebud in Citizen Kane.  All of these objects mean something to the characters whether or not they can physically carry them around, and represent a certain part of them and their lives.  That is what my object does for me as well.  

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