I open with my best friend from high school. Back then, we knew a tenth of what we know now; seeing that version of her hits me with such a sense of nostalgia. Here are remnants of our past selves. In the video there is that current present, in 2014, listening to Drake then flitting to an old pop-punk song that plunged us back into 2008. She’s married now. She’s faced some immense hardship that we, at 15, would have ever imagined. Not just the pain though; the teenagers we we were, at around 2005, would be proud. Amazed at who we became.

Most of my friends are women, a lot of them black or of color. We are drawn to people similar to us, those who make us feel safe. Many times, proximity to safety directly relies on certain constants no matter what life looks like (one can guess what those constants are). There’s a term, “structure of feeling”, which points to the phenomena of an unsaid black consciousness. In this structure, the specific yet common experience of being black in the world is shared throughout the diaspora. This basis ensures a potential level of automatic understanding; though no two people who share something automatically mesh. However, with understanding we can be more genuine; with more freedom to be, your growth is encouraged.

At the end of the video, I use a verse from Matthew 7:13 in the bible. Obviously, this has many interpretations and definitions. I was so drawn to the way it sounds, the order of the words—which sometimes I care more about (the sonic/visual strength over meaning)—but I didn’t want it to be so singularly about piety. But part of that first is all about a lack of definitives.

Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it.

Personally, the road to liberation is everything. But part of this passage, a pious guidance against the Road To Hell, shows we are all entering through the same gate. We decide which way to go. Though the ritual becomes a constant, a routine, it can change. Where would that change lead us? We all have thoughts, feelings, experiences that haunt the way we see ourselves. If I knew what I knew now, what would this Ritual look like. I know it would be presented differently. I’m not sure if I would make this piece at all. I look back on this and know those feelings and that girl. I look back and know that though my path may have changed, my body, my sense of self, my view of the world…I am still trying to take the best path possible. I’ve still entered that gate.

Humans are my favorite subject. We are the most dynamic and interesting to search and explore, and this time the subject was me. It is a rare occurrence for me to even be shown. I was intimately and (mostly) unabashedly giving a glimpse of who I am. Maybe seeing this has no actual meaning but it exists, so we can think about it.

At this time, in my portfolio, I had no video work to show; only my other artwork and my writing. During an interview for the London Film School, my interviewer asked about Ritual Crush; he wondered about its title, and the words included. At the time, it was an incredibly personal piece both by nature of it being a glorified vlog—now made popular by youtubers—and what I was going through at the time as a post-graduate. Looking back, it seems silly. The format, the text, the speech but it’s enough to embody me.

Glorified vlog acknowledged, those that I watched on youtube, essentially for escapism, are so different than what I made and what I could make. The people making these videos only present one part of their lives and once they get a huge audience, they get editors to just throw clips together to stimulate a larger audience. We don’t really know them, we just watch the content and personality they present. The personal is able to become impersonal and artificial. That in itself is worth exploring, but it wasn’t my aim.

Unlike these “influencers” who were on the rise since around this time was made, I didn’t have the fiscal autonomy at the time. I didn’t have access to many many many people to show how amazing my social circle was. I worked a lot, was wholly unsure of myself and my future, and I was tired. Additionally, a very popular type of art that many young women were making were these artistic type “vlog” looks at their lives. They’re easy to make, easy to look profound, and easy to get in a short amount of time. At the time, my access was so limited and this was the only way I knew how to put something together.

I So, with my limited resources, I decided to create this piece looking at my true life; the everyday. The incredibly fuckin’ ordinary. A ritual.

I took some old videos I found and recorded some new ones on my iPhone. I believe I made this on iMovie—it’s not only that dated but the clunkiness of the piece is indicative of my poor editing skills at the time along with a new interface for me to toggle with. My storytelling mind was nowhere near what it is now, my understanding of filmmaking, my ease with multiple programs the same. The young woman who made this would never know what Ritual Crush opened up for her. I don’t find these as effective as they once were, but they exist in a time where self-discovery (i.e. personal essays, recording of self) re-emerged in a millenial context.