Freezing, cavernous space. Slightly funny smell that I think came from the big woolly cardigan I was wearing – only thing warm enough and with big enough pockets to carry all the films around. My hips looked all lumpy and misshapen. It was dark. Waited for audience. Piddly little lights just about show me what’s what on the projectors. They come in. I start. Grab one of the films clattering around in my pocket, feed its leader in, clunkety clunk, come on, do it in one, YES! (not out loud), turn the dial to ‘play’, there it is, fiddle with focus just because I like it and it makes me feel like I know what I’m doing, move on, repeat x 9. No cock ups. Well, bit of underbreath swearing.
Text by Helena Haimes