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Let’s set the scene: You’ve been cruising comfortably for a while now. College is a few miles behind you. You’re setup on your own. The cool apartment, the social circle, the career. Maybe you’ve even got your very own IRA… Adult life is in place. You’ve got a track, a trajectory, and a title. You know who you are and where you’re going. And so does everyone else around you. Then one day it happens. You wake and realize just how completely miserable you are. You’re going through the motions simply because it’s routine. You’ve programmed yourself, reinforced the programming and today, for some reason, you’re waking to the dissatisfaction. Quarter life crises? Tragic missteps in your career choice? Maybe you’re just not getting laid enough? Whatever the source, you’re now sober to the fact that your life is not bringing you the happiness you were sure it would.  So, you’ve got a choice - you can lay back down in the bed you’ve made where, if you’re lucky, you’ll wake up in twenty years depressed enough to get some help before divorcing your wife and buying a sports car. Or, you can walk into the fire. You can crank up the Michael Jackson, take a long, deep look at the man in the mirror, then ask yourself the difficult question: “What do I really want to do with my life?” For me, that awakening happened a little over a year ago. At the time I was four years out of college, and had been having the time of my life here in Los Angeles. In 2006, after I graduated from school in Florida, I drove across the country, to Hollywood, to pursue my dream of becoming a film producer. That dream started in high school. I was fortunate enough to be a part of a high school that started what was (and probably still is) a very progressive media arts / technology program. What that meant for me was that at 14 years-old, I was writing, directing, shooting and editing content that would air on our local Fox affiliate. I was editing on an Avid, shooting with industry-level cameras, and most importantly, learning how to tell stories for the screen. I was young, passionate and unstoppable. Then came college. The natural choice for me was to study film and I was lucky enough to be accepted into film program at the University of Central Florida - a school away from home, but close enough to bring laundry back on the weekends. I had four great years. I was exposed to ideas, people and processes that absolutely changed who I was and how I approached the world. Among these changes were distinctions about how  I wanted to operate in my profession - I had to answer that question about who I wanted to be when I grew up. And, at the time, I believed that I wanted to be a movie producer. So, another four years go by, and I found myself right in the middle an amazing ride. I spent a few years as a Hollywood assistant, working for some amazing people - mentors and bosses - and now I’d landed a job as a Creative Executive at a production company. I was on track to climb right up that Hollywood ladder. My five, ten and twenty year plans were right in front of me.  The job, by day, was all about finding material for my company to produce which meant reading scripts round the clock, meeting with agents, managers & studio executives, and taking pitches from writers. It was a hustle, and a far cry from actual movie making. But, hey, these were the dues. This is what I knew I had to do to get to the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.  And then the day came. That pot of gold didn’t seem to shine so brightly anymore.  I kept finding myself wondering if yesterday had ended. I was wearing different clothes, the calendar looked different, but everything else was the same. I felt like I was reading the same thing, meeting the same people and having the same conversations.  I told myself that surely everyone hits this wall. Everyone gets stifled and has to do some things they’re not happy about, but that’s ok because it’s all just the means to an end, right? The really scary part was that end started to not look so good anymore. The more time I spent on the inside, the more clear the picture became to me. In reality, the people I looked up to were making a ton of money but they were, in practice, doing almost exactly what I was doing - and they were no happier. The further up the ladder I climbed, the further away I was going to move from the things that I love; the things that I really care about and make me happy. All of the perks were very seductive. But, at the end of the day, I wanted to be on set, behind the camera. I wanted to be the guy working with actors, telling the story with my camera, using my voice to move audiences. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had made a misstep somewhere. Something was off, and I had to fix it. So, now it’s one year later - where am I? Let’s start with where I’m not. I’m not working at that production company anymore. I’m not sitting in an office, I’m not reading scripts that I hate and I’m not waiting for the end of my work day anymore.  I took some serious time to soul search and figure out what it is I really want to be doing. What I learned is that I wasn’t far off. I wasn’t in the wrong industry, I was just playing someone else’s game. I was sitting on the sidelines hoping that things would feel better when I got more money, more power, or more notches on my belt.  I realized that my real dream is to be a director. It’s to be behind that camera telling the stories that I’m passionate about. It’s something I believe I’ve know in my heart for a long time, but have been too risk-averse to do anything about for far too long. As exciting as that realization is, it’s fu*king scary. It’s scary to make a shift into an entirely new discipline in your career and professional identity. I don’t have a j-o-b anymore. Aside from a few short films, some corporate / industrial work and a documentary, I’ve not been practicing directing for a long time. And, well, I might totally suck at it. I might look like a complete asshole for a while. At some point, I might even have to take shitty side work to pay my bills. I might flounder, be broke, and be laughed at. Life might not be easy, comfortable or safe for a long time. In the end, I’ve decided that I’m ok with those things. I’m ok looking like I I don’t have my shit together for a while. I’m ok walking into the unknown because otherwise, I’m not really living. I’m not really doing what I’m here to do. And ultimately, I wouldn’t be happy if I didn’t jump now. In my journey of self discovery, I found inspiration in this quote from James Cameron: “In art and exploration, failure has to be an option. Because it is a leap of faith. And no important endeavor that required innovation was done without risk. You have to be willing to take those risks […] in whatever you are doing, failure is an option. But, fear is not.”

Let’s set the scene:

You’ve been cruising comfortably for a while now. College is a few miles behind you. You’re setup on your own. The cool apartment, the social circle, the career. Maybe you’ve even got your very own IRA… Adult life is in place. You’ve got a track, a trajectory, and a title. You know who you are and where you’re going. And so does everyone else around you.

Then one day it happens. You wake and realize just how completely miserable you are. You’re going through the motions simply because it’s routine. You’ve programmed yourself, reinforced the programming and today, for some reason, you’re waking to the dissatisfaction. Quarter life crises? Tragic missteps in your career choice? Maybe you’re just not getting laid enough?

Whatever the source, you’re now sober to the fact that your life is not bringing you the happiness you were sure it would. 

So, you’ve got a choice - you can lay back down in the bed you’ve made where, if you’re lucky, you’ll wake up in twenty years depressed enough to get some help before divorcing your wife and buying a sports car. Or, you can walk into the fire. You can crank up the Michael Jackson, take a long, deep look at the man in the mirror, then ask yourself the difficult question: “What do I really want to do with my life?”

For me, that awakening happened a little over a year ago. At the time I was four years out of college, and had been having the time of my life here in Los Angeles. In 2006, after I graduated from school in Florida, I drove across the country, to Hollywood, to pursue my dream of becoming a film producer.

That dream started in high school. I was fortunate enough to be a part of a high school that started what was (and probably still is) a very progressive media arts / technology program. What that meant for me was that at 14 years-old, I was writing, directing, shooting and editing content that would air on our local Fox affiliate. I was editing on an Avid, shooting with industry-level cameras, and most importantly, learning how to tell stories for the screen. I was young, passionate and unstoppable.

Then came college. The natural choice for me was to study film and I was lucky enough to be accepted into film program at the University of Central Florida - a school away from home, but close enough to bring laundry back on the weekends. I had four great years. I was exposed to ideas, people and processes that absolutely changed who I was and how I approached the world. Among these changes were distinctions about how  I wanted to operate in my profession - I had to answer that question about who I wanted to be when I grew up. And, at the time, I believed that I wanted to be a movie producer.

So, another four years go by, and I found myself right in the middle an amazing ride. I spent a few years as a Hollywood assistant, working for some amazing people - mentors and bosses - and now I’d landed a job as a Creative Executive at a production company. I was on track to climb right up that Hollywood ladder. My five, ten and twenty year plans were right in front of me. 

The job, by day, was all about finding material for my company to produce which meant reading scripts round the clock, meeting with agents, managers & studio executives, and taking pitches from writers. It was a hustle, and a far cry from actual movie making. But, hey, these were the dues. This is what I knew I had to do to get to the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. 

And then the day came. That pot of gold didn’t seem to shine so brightly anymore. 

I kept finding myself wondering if yesterday had ended. I was wearing different clothes, the calendar looked different, but everything else was the same. I felt like I was reading the same thing, meeting the same people and having the same conversations. 

I told myself that surely everyone hits this wall. Everyone gets stifled and has to do some things they’re not happy about, but that’s ok because it’s all just the means to an end, right? The really scary part was that end started to not look so good anymore. The more time I spent on the inside, the more clear the picture became to me. In reality, the people I looked up to were making a ton of money but they were, in practice, doing almost exactly what I was doing - and they were no happier. The further up the ladder I climbed, the further away I was going to move from the things that I love; the things that I really care about and make me happy. All of the perks were very seductive. But, at the end of the day, I wanted to be on set, behind the camera. I wanted to be the guy working with actors, telling the story with my camera, using my voice to move audiences. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had made a misstep somewhere. Something was off, and I had to fix it.

So, now it’s one year later - where am I? Let’s start with where I’m not. I’m not working at that production company anymore. I’m not sitting in an office, I’m not reading scripts that I hate and I’m not waiting for the end of my work day anymore. 

I took some serious time to soul search and figure out what it is I really want to be doing. What I learned is that I wasn’t far off. I wasn’t in the wrong industry, I was just playing someone else’s game. I was sitting on the sidelines hoping that things would feel better when I got more money, more power, or more notches on my belt. 

I realized that my real dream is to be a director. It’s to be behind that camera telling the stories that I’m passionate about. It’s something I believe I’ve know in my heart for a long time, but have been too risk-averse to do anything about for far too long.

As exciting as that realization is, it’s fu*king scary. It’s scary to make a shift into an entirely new discipline in your career and professional identity. I don’t have a j-o-b anymore. Aside from a few short films, some corporate / industrial work and a documentary, I’ve not been practicing directing for a long time. And, well, I might totally suck at it. I might look like a complete asshole for a while. At some point, I might even have to take shitty side work to pay my bills. I might flounder, be broke, and be laughed at. Life might not be easy, comfortable or safe for a long time.

In the end, I’ve decided that I’m ok with those things. I’m ok looking like I I don’t have my shit together for a while. I’m ok walking into the unknown because otherwise, I’m not really living. I’m not really doing what I’m here to do. And ultimately, I wouldn’t be happy if I didn’t jump now.

In my journey of self discovery, I found inspiration in this quote from James Cameron:

“In art and exploration, failure has to be an option. Because it is a leap of faith. And no important endeavor that required innovation was done without risk. You have to be willing to take those risks […] in whatever you are doing, failure is an option. But, fear is not.”

#StreetPortraits #CulverCity

Ever hit a wall? Get stuck? Seemingly unable to make or get anything done?  Me too. Especially now that I work from home, it’s very easy to let this happen. You start the day with ambitious plans. You’ve prepared meticulous lists, agendas and goals. But then, shortly after lunch, it hits. You start Facebook stalking, coloring sticky notes with your highlighters and searching Wikipedia for important facts like ‘how bowling pins are made.’ My friends, unless you’re willing to spend the rest of your day in creative limbo, this is the time to shake things up. For me, that usually means going for a walk. I’ve got a great neighborhood for walking. Lots of foliage. Interesting people. Three Starbucks within half a mile.  A real pedestrian’s paradise. But, sometimes just moving doesn’t help get me out of the aforementioned rut. Sometimes I need to take my mind off the project/task/conversation at hand and just go make something else. If you’ve ever been out in public with me then you know that I love talking to strangers. I have a deep, genuine passion for people - but for some reason, I haven’t paired my love of photography with random social encounters… Until today. I decided that I was going to go out for a walk, with my camera, and I wasn’t going to come home until I took five portraits of strangers. The minute I assigned myself the project, I kinda freaked out. Sure, I can approach and talk to just about anyone, anywhere, any time (read: ultimate Wing Man), but this felt totally different. Suddenly I felt like this was a practice in exploitation; a total invasion into these peoples lives. Who wants some dude sticking a camera in your face when you’re walking down the street? I was really surprised at my resistance and fear. But, as all of that arose, I knew I had to do it.  And so I did. What I was prepared for was people yelling ‘No!’ and running across the street.  What I got was complete willing and eagerness from (almost) everyone I approached. People were happy to stop for a minute, talk about where they’re going, pose and wish me a good day. One couple was so into what I was doing that they invited me to a nearby happy hour with them. Of course I declined. This was, after all, designed to help me get back to work. So, what did I learn? Well, for one, a thirty minute ‘go-make-something’ break is incredibly helpful. If you’re hitting a wall, I highly suggest you give it a shot. But more importantly, pushing past that hesitation, that list of reasons why you should not do something outside of your comfort zone, is critical. Sometimes just asking for what you want will surprise you.

Ever hit a wall? Get stuck? Seemingly unable to make or get anything done? 

Me too. Especially now that I work from home, it’s very easy to let this happen. You start the day with ambitious plans. You’ve prepared meticulous lists, agendas and goals. But then, shortly after lunch, it hits. You start Facebook stalking, coloring sticky notes with your highlighters and searching Wikipedia for important facts like ‘how bowling pins are made.’ My friends, unless you’re willing to spend the rest of your day in creative limbo, this is the time to shake things up. For me, that usually means going for a walk.

I’ve got a great neighborhood for walking. Lots of foliage. Interesting people. Three Starbucks within half a mile.  A real pedestrian’s paradise. But, sometimes just moving doesn’t help get me out of the aforementioned rut. Sometimes I need to take my mind off the project/task/conversation at hand and just go make something else.

If you’ve ever been out in public with me then you know that I love talking to strangers. I have a deep, genuine passion for people - but for some reason, I haven’t paired my love of photography with random social encounters… Until today.

I decided that I was going to go out for a walk, with my camera, and I wasn’t going to come home until I took five portraits of strangers.

The minute I assigned myself the project, I kinda freaked out. Sure, I can approach and talk to just about anyone, anywhere, any time (read: ultimate Wing Man), but this felt totally different. Suddenly I felt like this was a practice in exploitation; a total invasion into these peoples lives. Who wants some dude sticking a camera in your face when you’re walking down the street? I was really surprised at my resistance and fear. But, as all of that arose, I knew I had to do it.  And so I did.

What I was prepared for was people yelling ‘No!’ and running across the street.  What I got was complete willing and eagerness from (almost) everyone I approached. People were happy to stop for a minute, talk about where they’re going, pose and wish me a good day. One couple was so into what I was doing that they invited me to a nearby happy hour with them. Of course I declined. This was, after all, designed to help me get back to work.

So, what did I learn? Well, for one, a thirty minute ‘go-make-something’ break is incredibly helpful. If you’re hitting a wall, I highly suggest you give it a shot. But more importantly, pushing past that hesitation, that list of reasons why you should not do something outside of your comfort zone, is critical. Sometimes just asking for what you want will surprise you.

I cannot wait for this. And, shit - this campaign is AMAZING. 

I cannot wait for this. And, shit - this campaign is AMAZING. 

(Source: cidindon, via littleas)

amy-blue: “A director needs to be in control, but he really shouldn’t be in complete control, because then things could be very boring, and he wouldn’t take advantage of unexpected developments and opportunities. There are people who storyboard everything. I don’t do that. I’ll storyboard some stuff, but mainly I’m ready for the unexpected. I think that’s important. You can’t plan too much. I always think of a quote from Napoleon when they asked him to explain the intricacies of his battle plan. He said, ‘Well here’s the plan. First we go there, and then we see what happens.’” - Warren Beatty

amy-blue:

“A director needs to be in control, but he really shouldn’t be in complete control, because then things could be very boring, and he wouldn’t take advantage of unexpected developments and opportunities. There are people who storyboard everything. I don’t do that. I’ll storyboard some stuff, but mainly I’m ready for the unexpected. I think that’s important. You can’t plan too much. I always think of a quote from Napoleon when they asked him to explain the intricacies of his battle plan. He said, ‘Well here’s the plan. First we go there, and then we see what happens.’” - Warren Beatty

(via fuckyeahdirectors)

Superbowl Sunday. I’m sure there were plenty of amazing parties happening here, but I couldn’t wrangle up enough interest in football to make to it any of them. Instead, I decided to spend my afternoon shooting a local model in a charming little state park. Ariele (above) had a great, quirky energy about her. Texas tough, student of the Buddha, striking features and a pixie cut. We shot for about 2 hours - posing, lighting, adjusting, tweaking - but in the final evaluation, this candid shot of her warming herself, unaware of the camera, held the most power for me.

Superbowl Sunday. I’m sure there were plenty of amazing parties happening here, but I couldn’t wrangle up enough interest in football to make to it any of them. Instead, I decided to spend my afternoon shooting a local model in a charming little state park.

Ariele (above) had a great, quirky energy about her. Texas tough, student of the Buddha, striking features and a pixie cut. We shot for about 2 hours - posing, lighting, adjusting, tweaking - but in the final evaluation, this candid shot of her warming herself, unaware of the camera, held the most power for me.

Hello, again, from Austin, Texas. Another full day of shooting flooring products, which is far more exhausting than you might imagine. I managed to get back to my hotel room just before the sun left the sky; enough time to watch this beautiful light pour through my window. Tripod-less, I rigged my camera atop the desk lamp, setting aperture, shutter speed and focus (a little soft) before running in front of the lens. I don’t take many self portraits, but I’m starting to take a liking to them. I recently created one as an assignment for a creative portraiture class I’m taking and found it was incredibly difficult for me. For the first time in recent memory I had to say something about myself; have a perspective on who and what I am - then articulate that thru my lens. I quickly saw that most of what I was producing was bland, sanitized or literal; the ingredients for boring work. I didn’t illuminate the shadows or subtleties of who I am. I didn’t take a chance. Didn’t do something unsafe or risky. I came to learn that was the point of the exercise. I had completely missed the mark. So, I decided I should make a practice of shooting self portraits more often. Work on getting in a little deeper. Capture the good and the bad. I’m sure this could read like an exercise in vanity. I assure you it’s not. I’m starting to believe that if one wants to be an effective artist, someone who creates compelling, meaningful work then you’ve got to start at home. You’re got to be self-aware and really be able to look within. And then say something about what you see. You’ve got to be willing to be vulnerable, fail (maybe in a really big way) and then do it all over again. That’s a really scary notion. But, it’s that process of self discovery that leads us to our voice. It leads us to the place from which we can access our unique perspective on the world. And, really, if you’re a creator, isn’t that everything? If you’re an artist, I urge you to try the exercise. Paint. Photograph. Video. Or, start blogging. This is one of the first times I’ve written much more than a tweet and posted it publicly. It’s uncomfortable. But, I think this is where the good stuff is going to come from.

Hello, again, from Austin, Texas. Another full day of shooting flooring products, which is far more exhausting than you might imagine. I managed to get back to my hotel room just before the sun left the sky; enough time to watch this beautiful light pour through my window. Tripod-less, I rigged my camera atop the desk lamp, setting aperture, shutter speed and focus (a little soft) before running in front of the lens.

I don’t take many self portraits, but I’m starting to take a liking to them. I recently created one as an assignment for a creative portraiture class I’m taking and found it was incredibly difficult for me. For the first time in recent memory I had to say something about myself; have a perspective on who and what I am - then articulate that thru my lens. I quickly saw that most of what I was producing was bland, sanitized or literal; the ingredients for boring work. I didn’t illuminate the shadows or subtleties of who I am. I didn’t take a chance. Didn’t do something unsafe or risky.

I came to learn that was the point of the exercise. I had completely missed the mark.

So, I decided I should make a practice of shooting self portraits more often. Work on getting in a little deeper. Capture the good and the bad. I’m sure this could read like an exercise in vanity. I assure you it’s not. I’m starting to believe that if one wants to be an effective artist, someone who creates compelling, meaningful work then you’ve got to start at home. You’re got to be self-aware and really be able to look within. And then say something about what you see. You’ve got to be willing to be vulnerable, fail (maybe in a really big way) and then do it all over again.

That’s a really scary notion. But, it’s that process of self discovery that leads us to our voice. It leads us to the place from which we can access our unique perspective on the world. And, really, if you’re a creator, isn’t that everything?

If you’re an artist, I urge you to try the exercise. Paint. Photograph. Video. Or, start blogging. This is one of the first times I’ve written much more than a tweet and posted it publicly. It’s uncomfortable. But, I think this is where the good stuff is going to come from.

Greetings from Austin. I’m down here for a week shooting some photos for a friend’s website. As usual, the people are exceptional friendly. Rosalinda, above, is no exception; even when my room key has stopped working for the fourth time. As an aside, you know that thing in PeeWee’s Big Adventure where he yells out, “The stars at night are big and bright!” And everyone around him suddenly stops, clap-clap-clap-claps, and replies, “Deep in the heart of Texas.” Turns out that doesn’t really work.

Greetings from Austin. I’m down here for a week shooting some photos for a friend’s website. As usual, the people are exceptional friendly. Rosalinda, above, is no exception; even when my room key has stopped working for the fourth time.

As an aside, you know that thing in PeeWee’s Big Adventure where he yells out, “The stars at night are big and bright!” And everyone around him suddenly stops, clap-clap-clap-claps, and replies, “Deep in the heart of Texas.”

Turns out that doesn’t really work.