In 1974, the woman committed suicide. In 1997, I saw the man for the first time again. He was still living in the same apartment he had moved into with his wife and child 41 years ago. The apartment had remained virtually unchanged. The man is my father. Following this meeting, and during the course of the next 2 1/2 years, I used my digital video camera to watch my father. I follow him, even on a boat trip through the Caribbean.
The camera provides a certain distance, but intimacy as well.
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