Eye For Film #myjourney #indiefilmmaker #contentcreator

 I realized recently that I have always had an eye for film, no matter how others sought to devalue, deconstruct, discourage my artistic pursuits. 

As a child, I was an avid photographer, saving up to purchase my own camera at the tender age of 9 to taking summer classes on the art of shooting black & white and learning the stages of home development.  My father set up a dark-room in the cool backroom of my childhood home's basement and I spent many an hour practicing, watching the images I had shot bleed into life in the tray below.  Then, examining the highs and lows of each photograph, deciding upon what I liked, what I did right, and which areas to improve upon.  Most of these early childhood images were my pets, such as, this one below of my beloved kitty, Escher, of which I didn't find the photograph that well taken or produced at the time but now I find a precious piece of my personal history.

So, what does this have to do with being a filmmaker? The early origins of my life creating photography enhanced my ability to view all the world behind a 'lens', even when not holding a camera.  It is true as I grew my early childhood passions were devalued in a sense and I was made to feel as if my focus should be upon more serious endeavors.  Thus, I became an enthusiastic cheerleader of my artist friends, inwardly envious at the path they were creating for themselves.  Having to relinquish all of my creative pursuits, seen only as hobbies at best and childhood whims at worst, was another nail in the cross of crucifying myself leading to a shaky instability and sadness at my core.  The past meltdowns and anger outbursts were the result not of 'original sin from ol' Adam and Eve, but from the sin of feeling less than and unworthy from continuous outward entanglements of which I thought were trustworthy.  All this to say, the inner desire to create, to thrive as an artist, always revealed itself, sometimes in outbursts of wrath proclaiming an inner misery, and other times through my endless journaling and play-writing.  The starving artist is, in fact, not the reality of the glorification of the struggle to make ends meet, but a person whose inner desire to make art is sacrificed for the acceptance of the status quo, the effects therein of personal hatred lead to the starving, not thriving.

Film-making was another aspect disrespected by those I was raised, seen as commercial at best and lacking any artistic value at worst.  The plethora of film and media, TV sitcoms and reality based shows, coupled with the toxicity of the Hollywood culture abounding, gave a good case for such degradation.  Yet, stemming from my early childhood autodidactic teaching in photography coupled with my incessant desire for the perfect script, my eye acted as a lens as I viewed the outside world.  Throughout my early days of the mental health breakdown, this view of the world helped make sense of my crumbling world.  

In 2016, when I started gathering actors and a ramshackle crew alike together to create my corny little scripts, I still maintained the inner devaluing of my work in indie film.  I did not see that what I was birthing upon the world mattered in anyway.  Now, I recognize that those early, timid days creating what we could with poor quality equipment were not so much about the quality of the output but rather the inner strengthening of self esteem and worth for all involved.  Not too mention, the closeness of family from the experience of such project with promises of life-long love and commitment.  Those first steps of self-creation were the balm of healing I needed to relinquish the wounds of external disempowerment leading to my true calling that of a 'thriving artist' following, creating her own path from her own inner desire.