Film-making as a process of personal transformation by Pamela

The journey of creating this film is taking me through the photos and memories of renovating of our longhouse. I had certainly always remembered the difficulties. 

I was told during the five year period that many couples split up during living- on- building- site renovations because it is such a strain.

Well, yes, but we didn’t.
 

In writing the story of my Llan, I am reminded of the care, time, focus and attention to detail we put in to make it what it is today…a beautiful home.

I sit here in my sunflower yellow office on orangey red desk chair and white desk.  I now share quiet companionship in this room with still-not-divorced- after- all- we- have- been- through- husband. I look around with a quiet gladness, even awe, at our brave endeavours . I will choose to let go residue of lime green bitterness of how hard it was. It makes it easier for warm colour coordination.

   

Contented and peaceful in my Llan, I smile as I remember that I hated the word ‘contented’ when I was my younger earnest passionate idealist self…I guess age DOES have a lot to do with things! 

Yes, the outer world is still filled with injustice, violence and environmental destruction. These days I allow myself to see and rest in the beauty more often, in my home as a starter.  The sign near my entrance door says..’Home is where our story begins’

Some homes begin very difficult stories. Like for my children.

In conveying the story of being an adopting mother to my adopted daughter within the film, I am challenged to not fall back into the hurt and difficulty and heartbreak.

I am creatively given an opportunity to use the art form of film to use an image, a sound, maybe no words at all. 

Tracy sat with me in my kitchen as I grappled with how to convey that story on film, and a few more tears and shards of hurt had to come out before I could find the way of telling it so it  may become a ‘GOOD’ story.   

By ‘GOOD’ I don’t mean ‘happy’ and ignore or pretend that there was no endless heartbreak of my daughter’s rejection.  Her running away back to her birth mother after nine years of my mothering was real and humiliating and devastating.

   

No, by ‘GOOD’ I mean how can it move me on in its telling (thank you Tracy for your sensitivity and stillness) But more importantly, so that the film may touch viewers in the places they have also been heartbroken. Then together filmmaker and film watcher may be sharing a story of humanity ?

       

Anyway, ponderings…as a needed break from working out what camera shot goes with what photo, what text, what sound and in what position? 

    From heart to head and back again.

    The story of my adopted son is much easier to tell.

    He did not want to break free of my heart and home.

    

Now seventeen, he still comes back home from his working apprenticeship in Swansea three nights a week. We hang out and chat and laugh together and share a love of musical theatre which is good for singing together in the car!

Another break will be writing Valentine cards tonight to absent wild fire adopted daughter and level headed -living-at-home adopted son so they know they are still loved.

There is the miracle, that a broken heart can and will love again.

Maybe first I will jump up and down on my small trampoline for ten minutes so the body gets a look in too…