There was an interactive website that I had a deep impression of, and I am very sure it exists, as I have the memory of using it for a course response. However, as sad as it is, I failed to find it again.
It is a simple website, which tells a story of something that happened in a wooden hut near the lake(not the horror game series of course). Upon entry, there is a prompt that the user can press space at any time of the video. The story I don’t clearly remember, but it was the way it displayed the story that moved me. If you don’t press space at all, the video will only be about some man going into the hut, touching things here and there, and wandering about the hut. However, the scene will change if you press space at any time. The camera is still at the same position pointing at the same angles, but it shows the story that happened years ago. The guy visiting the hut was part of the event that got the hut abandoned, and his walking through the scenes, touching things here and there, perfectly guides the camera so that the story that happened before is recorded.
This narrative technique, where past and present intertwine, profoundly moved me and made me reflect on the nature of time and memory. I was interested in the concept of time since I was very young. Time, what a fascinating thing that goes on and on and moves only forward. It slows for no one, waits for no one, and keeps moving forward as if it doesn’t care about anything or anyone. It washes away traces of what happened and blurs the memories. And there it is, memory, a word only meaningful with time but also killed by it. The storytelling of the website shows these concepts unintentionally, but it touched me so much that I remember it to this day. The man was revisiting the hut as if revisiting the already blurry memory of the history that occurred, while the observer(or the user of the website) sees the history in action, and tries to picture what the man is going through. It could never be the same, as the man revisits the place to refresh the already blurry memories, but the viewers are just watching a recorded tape. It is only after time when the memories of watching the video fade and we go back to looking at the hut replaying what happened in our heads, that we viewers can actually feel the man.
As I was writing this line, I began to feel not sad about losing the website, but relief. Remembering what was, and revisiting it are completely different experiences. For the man in the video, the thing that happened meant a lot to him, so when the memories blur, he decided to revisit the place, to reclaim his hut and his memories of it. But is it the same thing for me? Did I lose what was meaningful to me? No, I did not. I did not care the slightest about what happened in the hut. What I cared about was the feeling it gave me and the thoughts it provoked. Since these are the things I care about, am I not revisiting my hut right now when I am writing these words? Am I not refreshing the memories that actually meant something to me on the website that I have lost? Time is merciless, as it washes away both the important and the unimportant, but in another way, it is merciful, as it will leave enough information for you to replay what matters, and empties the unimportant so there is space for more.
So, back to the beginning. There was an interactive website that I had a deep impression of, and I am very sure it exists, as I have the memory of using it for a course response. However, as fortunate as it is, I failed to find it again, and it opened up a brand new world in front of me, and I got more than I could ever have if I were to review the website once more.