Vicarious Feeling - Still Images

As part of my research on "experience" and possibility of sharing it with other people, testing different media is probably one of the most essential ones. The what factor, while critical, can't affect people without proper how - even the most visceral of horrors will be laughed at if presented with cut-out cardboard puppets (don't think too much about this metaphor, I certainly didn't).

One of the most obvious frameworks, tools allowing us to share the sensations, is still image - carvings, paintings and, in modern time, photographies. Being in a good mood, I've decided to conduct little experiment - my digital camera in my hand, I'll take a point-of-view picture of everything that catches my eye, from morning to late night. One little caveat was that I was supposed to spend the following day at the office, so I could no longer hope for capturing any fascinating, zany adventures, but hey - what's more of "everyday experience" than office work?

The next day, after a long day of tedious work, I've reached my shelterous room armed with two new scraps of knowledge. First one - up until this day, I haven't realized my job was SO BLOODY DULL. Second one - still images are extremely versatile with all their possible uses, but when it comes to re-experiencing something, they're possibly the worst conceivable choice. With one exception, I think - and this is when you're trying to make the end-user as bored as possible.

Why is that the still image is the worst way of evoking an experience?
The way I see it, there is one trait that all life, sentient or not, even more, that the whole world around us, has in common. Movement. No matter what we lay our eyes upon, the world is dynamic - every gesture, every notion, though or feeling is somehow related to movement. We relate stress with shaking hands and violent, quirky guestures. Arousal is strongly connected with close physical contact, while fear causes everything around to shake and twist, dilated pupils being partially responsible. Every sense is stimulated by some sort of movement, be it most obvious sight, sound, smell or taste.

Browsing through all the photos I've taken today, I have noticed something. It was boring, yes. But it was "there's a lot of similar pictures"-boring, not "another unclosed >>if<< statement and I'm going to shoot myself"-boring. Still imaging could not capture the flickering lamp that was slowly eroding my mind into little more than a gray pulp. It could not relay the nausea I felt everytime a co-worker sitting against me took a slurp (not a sip, slurp) of his tea, making a noise fit more for clogged pipes than human being. But the most important thing was that all the pictures I have taken were nothing more than just a dry description. It all gave me a detailed information, but no actual experience behind. To draw a conclusion from this point on is an easy task - what makes an experience is a constant fluctuation, change and shift. Remove that aspect and you remove the "life", the underlying layer of subtle clues and details that transpire a raw set of genderless data into an actual event.

All of that in mind, I'm not disparaging photography in general - it's still a powerful form of expression, able to retain its layer of meaning despite the limitation. A scene frozen in space might be open to more interpretation when taken out of context - and it's still aesthetically pleasing. But when it comes to immersive interaction, still picture is the exact opposite of what we are trying to achieve.

Next time I'm going to try something little more dynamic - video recording. Let's see how that one goes.

And for these reasing it that still want to suffer some more, link to my recent photo-shoot. I'm calling it "Day of the mindless Drone":

· Amazingly awful Photo-shoot