I Loved You But You Loved Her
Najia Bagi
Covid-19 has given us so much time and filled that time with so much anxiety / crippled our ability to consume that we have (in my opinion) almost become mirror images of the extreme time-less and anxiously collecting beings we were before the pandemic. What are we supposed to collect now? Can we consume pandemic related anxiety? How much will it cost and do you take contactless?
My latest explorations as part of the MEWNRhwng collaboration have been inspired by Rebecca, Jen and Gemma’s work which creates beautiful spaces for reflection through light, text and physical movement. I have also been trying to create narratives that can live inside the mindful pockets of time that have been so precious to me in the past six months.
For me this weird spatial reality that we’ve been thrown into has triggered a need for me to make and send messages, to become in awe of those who choose to risk their lives in order to speak out against injustice, to imagine and uncover unsaid messages between lovers and friends, and to remember.
I have chosen to share here three pieces of research. I Loved You But You Loved Her is the most moving message I received when I put an open call out for unsaid messages that people wished had been spoken. I was moved to ask this question after noticing scrubbed graffiti on a local bridge - I wondered what was underneath but more than that I was struck by the beauty of what was left over. The smudge, the stroke of the cleaning products on the wood. I was here 2020.
I also felt indignant about the ability of certain times, situations and relationships to silence us. So took this message and used it to begin improvised speech, which unsurprisingly took a turn into remembering racism being directed towards me when I was younger. I have transcribed the speech into ticker tape running across the bottom of the screen. Only existing in movement, constantly moving. For me this treatment of the text is important because it reflects the improvised process of creating it and is also reminiscent of the translated words of a movie. Perhaps I’m trying to translate the past into a solid shape, and translate the unsaid message of another from the past into something which exists now.
I created a GIF with the words layered over various images and video of running water. The GIF has been uploaded online and so exists for someone who may search for the phrase or sentiment. Perhaps it’s lost there forever. But it exists. I like the way it moves quickly, like anxious thoughts.
The final image does not belong to me, but it forms part of my thinking. It is an image of Libyan women marching to protest to become part of the peace process after Gadaffi was killed and a new government was formed.
I continue to follow movement, and perhaps even more than ever, the moment before something.
