Space

Two weeks of the new routine are already behind me. On my first day as editor-in-chief, the first colleague was already standing at my desk. He had bad news: he asked if I could lend him my camera and case for a bit.

That stung a little.

I’ve cherished my equipment for five years now. Everything a seasoned camera journalist needs fits into two bags. A tripod goes in that long black one. (Dozens of times while out and about, people have asked me what on earth is in there. Just last December, I did a story on a student choir in Utrecht. In the hallway, some young folks asked me if I’d like to join their band. They were still looking for someone who could play the trombone.)

And that blue one, the Portabrace. The one that cameramen all over the world recognize right away. Ah! There’s another one just like me! Someone who does something with film!
Inside is the most important thing, the real instrument: the V1 (which is already outdated by now, but which has been with me through thick and thin and has never once broken down). The transmitter (without that thing, you’re nowhere as a camjo), headphones (I suddenly remember that I left a pair behind at a drugstore in Soesterberg; maybe that colleague could go pick them up now?). And a stack of tapes and batteries.

All of it suddenly in someone else’s hands.
I haven’t been outside for the past 14 days; I haven’t done any white balance (adjusting colors with a white card), focused, adjusted the depth of field, or divided my attention between camera and interview techniques.

And yet: I like my new job.
More than just like it. On Saturdays, I’m already looking forward to Monday, and that seems like a good sign.

The energy that used to go into lugging around all the gear, into the dual focus of technical and content-related filming, into driving, into wondering whether all the information on location would still be the same, and in the tight deadline when you don’t get back to the editing suite until four o’clock—I now have all that adrenaline to spare so I can focus even more on my own thoughts. Suddenly, there’s room.

To decide which topics come first. To read the newspapers more carefully. To follow the ANP. To develop a sense of what I’ll need to do in an hour. To be in the control room. To look much more closely at scripts. Or at the preparation for a report. And finally: to evaluate reports.
It turns out I really enjoy all of these things.

For a moment, I considered changing the name of my blog, but I think “Ulli’s on the Move… Currently Filling in as Editor-in-Chief” is perfectly acceptable too.

And even though I said goodbye with a touch of melancholy to what I’d come to feel so connected to—if, after my temporary assignment, I still really want to be out there filming in the rain and I find myself empty-handed, without a camera, I’ll remind my editor-in-chief of his words:
““You’ll just get a brand-new one again soon, won’t you?”

For now, things are just perfect the way they are.