Butch Femme Diaries 03- Study Date Gone Wrong

The plan was genuinely to study.

Anna had flight school work to get through, I had my own pile of things I was excited to accomplish, and going to the beach somehow seemed like the perfect compromise between being responsible and refusing to waste a beautiful summer afternoon. We packed our books, notebooks, drinks, cameras, and enough supplies to suggest that two very serious women were about to have an extremely productive afternoon.

This was our first mistake.

I started filming because, at least in theory, there wasn’t much to film. I liked the idea of documenting something boring: opening books, highlighting pages, scribbling notes, the wind moving through the grass, Anna concentrating across from me. There are so many photographs and films of the occasions that announce themselves as important, birthdays, trips, proposals, holidays, and comparatively little evidence of all the afternoons in between. But most of a relationship happens there, many of my happiest moments with Anna happen there.

The studying slowly became talking. The talking became distracting each other. Somewhere along the way, whatever academic ambitions we arrived with were completely abandoned, and the footage became less about two people studying at the beach and more about the precise reason they probably shouldn’t attempt to study together in the first place, and espeically not at the beach on a hot summer afternoon.

Very little work was accomplished. We traded a productive afternoon for giggles. I did, however, make exactly the kind of film I want Butch Femme Diaries to be.

The project isn’t really about creating perfectly cinematic dates or manufacturing little romantic scenes for the camera. I want it to become an archive of our actual life together. The beautiful parts, obviously, but also the interruptions, stupid jokes, unfinished plans, weird habits and tiny moments that would otherwise disappear completely. I’m increasingly interested in making photographs and films that don’t necessarily prove that something extraordinary happened.

Sometimes I just want proof that this happened. That we sat beside each other with books open in our laps. That Anna distracted me. That I encouraged it. That the sun was out. That neither of us got nearly enough work done.

There are worse ways to lose an afternoon.

And, for the record, we will absolutely attempt another study date despite having learned nothing from this experience. And Anna passed her stage check the following afternoon with flying colors (no pun intended)!