In the midst of a personal and work crisis, I begin to film everything obsessively: my parents, grandparents, children, friends and lovers, but also myself and psychotherapy. Some footage is consensual, some is “stolen.” This way my personal-intimate becomes narrative: the recent separation, the pain of my children’s being apart, my parents’ separation, my inadequacy as a mother. But in this autobiographical process of “coming out” I inevitably clash with the privacy of those close to me. The result is a kind of intimate diary that, in becoming public, is perhaps shameless and obscene. But where are the boundaries between what should remain private, offstage, and what can be made public and shared?