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SPOTLIGHT: Starring Kim Hamadani 

Media 160 Final Project 

I was excited for my visit to the MOMI. I haven’t heard too much about this museum, but who ever has been there, warned me that it is a really awesome place. And boy, did I think it was awesome. How many hours do we spend watching movies and Tv shows and yet most people rarely ever give thought to how much actually goes into it. And even people like me, who actually do a lot of analyzing when watching a film, don’t even touch the surface of what it really is about. I give thought to the amount of hardwork, thought, art, and money go into the film but my amazement and knowledge went even further from walking around the Museum of Moving Image for around an hour and a half on Wednesday, November 25.

 I enjoyed roaming around throughout the special effects room, costume area (seeing the Mrs. Doubtfire outfit was definitely a highlight!), and participating in a flipbook series. However, the coolest part of the tour for me was the sound effects area in which the educator should us a scene from Titanic. Titanic is a movie I’ve seen several times, but this time I watched the scene in which it is sinking in a way I never had before. The educator showed us the scene as it is shown in the movie. Then he played it with just the Foley art sound, and then with the actual sound of the filming. It was crazy how when watching the scene I always just paid attention to the plot and what was going on without really putting much thought into the sound. It would never cross my mind that the sinking and drowning and commotion consist of sounds of elephants in pain, gunshots, and so much more. Without the added sound effects the movie just felt awkward and uneventful.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MjklYOmCo30

           Movement. That is what I heard most. And how often is it that we actually listen to what we hear? The different sounds, the loud sounds, the lack of sounds, I was noticing it all.

           I got off the 6 Train on 68th street and Lexington Avenue, like I do every Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday. This time was different, and not only because I didn’t walk straight into the school building. With my headphones stashed in the bottom of my backpack instead of their usual place –my ears, I walked to get my morning tea. I’ve must of done this walk over a hundred times these past three and a half years, but this time was different. For an hour, as I got my tea, breakfast, and morning stroll in, I got to know the noises of the upper east side, and boy are they annoying at 9 am!

           First off I noticed the chatter, students walking in groups talking to each other, women in workout gear talking about how awesome “Tod’s class” was, and some construction men directing each other. I heard cars honking, which are much louder when you are paying attention to them. But chatter, phones ringing, and cars honking I was expecting to hear. But footsteps, just cars driving regularly, and my own thoughts were not something I anticipated hearing so loudly.

Are You Being Watched?

Are You Being Watched?

            I consider myself to be a creative person, despite the fact that I feel like I am constantly facing a blank canvas in which I have no idea where to begin, where to go, what to say, or what to write.

I love writing but hate outlines, love painting but hate sketching, love traveling but hate structured itineraries.

The bump for me is always starting. Choosing the idea. Writing that first sentence.  Introducing myself. But after that, it’s impossible to stop me. The ideas just keep popping, the words keep flowing, and I don’t give up.

I’m not afraid of the unknown, change, or challenges. I have a constant thirst for knowledge, adventure, and growth.

I get inspired from everyday things, the big things and even more so the little things. I want to see everything, travel everywhere, and hear everyone’s stories.

I’m that friend, sister, daughter, aunt, student, and stranger with her iPhone in hand capturing real life. Documenting the good times and raw footage of laughs, adventures, relationships and nature. I am constantly snapping away, filling up my camera roll, and slowing down trips to get the perfect shot.

            I never used to refer to myself as an artist. I thought at artist meant someone who had their art in a gallery or a museum or was a talented singer or musician. The kids in class with doodles that looked like it took them hours and not ten seconds to complete, those were artists. The kids that painted the scenery for the school play, those were artists. The songs I listened to on my ipod, were composed and sung by artists. It seemed like everyone around me was an artist but myself.

 Now at age 21, I realize we are all artists if we let ourselves be. We create things, recreate things, and destroy things as we please. To me, creativity is about figuring out a way of doing things in my own personal way to my own style.