Amy Granat


In this picture, I'm scratching a piece of film. In my hand is a broken piece of mirror. The edge was really sharp, and it was making the nicest scratches. The mirror fell off my living-room wall a few years ago in the middle of the night—a big boom! I still keep the pieces in a bag in my studio because you never know when you're going to need a nice broken piece of mirror. The night before this picture was taken I made a movie with my friend Emily, and we gave ourselves beehives (the hairstyle). The next morning I slept in and was just too tired to try to wash it and brush it out, so I patted it down the best I could. What you can't see in this photograph is the rat's nest that was living on the other side of my head. Fallen beehive, resting horizontal. Okay, back to the scratches—and the film. I guess you can say I'm obsessed with the idea of destroying stuff to make stuff. And the endless cycles that spin the world (and the camera) 'round. There's so much left to discover with light and motion, and sometimes the most beautiful stuff can come out of the most simple and pure moment. Movies about light that come from a scratch, made with the edge of a broken mirror.