"See you in Valhalla", I croaked.
A Valkyrie appeared and lay her sword upon my breast
I rise again to a staircase leading far into the clouds above me. A grand set of golden doors unfold to a great dining hall where Odin welcomes me home.

“Come feast with us, my son.”

Through My Lens

Since the beginning of time, Film and advertising have been juxtaposed through a lens. Film, as I’ve known it, has always been a creative outlet for young visionaries. A career where aspiring individualists work ungodly hours to create inspiring cinematic masterpieces that boldly flaunt they’re artistic writing or filmmaking talent. Sounds douchee...and in a way, it is. But if you can look past the high-brow arrogance, a filmmaker’s hard work, persistence and love for the craft even knowing the pay will show little to no support, is what makes the career so admirable.

Advertising has always been that shiny temptation. That tiny devil that sits atop your left shoulder trying to combat everything your little film conscious tells you on your right.

Advertising is for those College Swear sisters and Frat boys who stumble upon mad men one drunken night and are sold by the mere sight of a wet bar in Don Drapers office. Or, for those who are willing to forsake morals for a fancy figure. And how about those film sellouts who just couldn’t resist that devilish temptation any longer?  Advertising isn’t something you fall in love with, it’s a popular career trend for the people who want to own bragging rights to working at a youthful job and ostentatious workspace without having to use their imagination any longer than a 3 minute commercial. 

Advertising makes materialism look cool. It’s about boosting the supply and demand chain. It’s for pretentious individuals who sell commodities to foolish consumers who are easily persuaded and buy into the “materials make us happy” motto.

Someone wise once said, “A person who is given nothing and asks for nothing in return will go further in life than someone who is given everything”.

 In this scenario, the person who is given nothing is every novice filmmaker trying to stumble his or her way through their career. 

The person that is given everything is the avaricious Marketer who will inevitably cause bankruptcies, inescapable debt, and raise the divorce rate - all, without freeing the whisky highball from his or her left hand.

Catching Up

Oh hey 👋 , I hope your well. it’s been a while since I saw you last. Lots happened since then. But Ill spare you the cheesy monologue. What’s that? You say you want to hear it regardless of length? Oooh, If you insist...

Let’s rewind back to January 2020, just before the words “new normal” were hatched.

Like the start to any year, 2020 was greeted with the same bright-eyed, bushy-tailed energy, inspo-filled mood boards and hand-written lists of last years’ accomplishments. Which then lead to a rise in social content, and the “Picture-perfect” superficial clout crap.

In February the social pissing contest came to a screeching halt just as quickly as the NYE wish-filled confetti dissipated into the high-traffic streets of time square. Leaving our hopes for tomorrow trampled, faded, practically erased, and our bright future a seemingly grim looking question mark.

You already know where I’m going with this... spoiler alert 😷 

At first, the panic felt hushed and distant. Like across the fucking Ocean blue distant. But the chaos grew loud when unemployment started its climb, and merchants began closing their doors with no sight of return. 

A few months of solidarity and confinement go by...and then? 

Everything went dark.

(Black screen)

Sorrow and Anger were the only emotions that held any weight.

Voices grew stronger as America’s racial injustice was finally being confronted. In the midst of it all, everyone became suspect. Lines were blurred and It became increasingly difficult to separate politics from judgement. It felt like we were all trying to point fingers at the bad guy - except everyone was guilty.

Over the summer, parking lots continued to kick around tumble weeds, streets were practically fumeless, and every open field was basecamp for a protest. As we began to recognize the wounds we’d inflicted on one another, the ozone was in the process of mending her own.

What did I do through all this? 

I ran. A lot. I’m not sure if the distance was time I needed to rationalize my thoughts, or if it was just my escape from the Plex and the 7 critters we found quarantining with us  🐁 . 

As often as I ran, I wrote even more. Mostly because my thoughts needed a place to escape to when my head became too Loud.

Alex and I swallowed every passing holiday and quarantine birthday with a chaser. Then, future us realized a year and a half later we had created a really bad habit - it wasn’t just birthdays. Our liquor runs had became more frequent, and the booze became a coping mechanism for everything that was going on in the world.

On a lighter note, I got a promotion!

But a couple months later decided to switch my career path. I’m still figuring out what I want to do when I grow up. At this point I’m wondering if I’ll ever find the answer or if I’m just doomed to live in an escape room with an unsolvable riddle.

Originally I booked us a 5 year anniversary flight to explore Asia in September 2020. Talk about terrible timing. 

Of course, the trip was cancelled

but we ended up buying our first home instead 🏡 Evidently, 5 years is wood.

So, a solid settlement. Ba dum tss...

We moved in and started painting. It’s been a year and we’re still painting. 

A month later we lost our best friend. 🐱 We were at our lowest. Life instantly lost meaning, and the only colors that held any weight were black and white.

Five days later we found him hiding under our neighbor’s deck a quarter mile down the road, Scared and alone. Kinda like how 2020 had been for most of us.

We commemorated death and joined new love, but for the most part the solitude carried into 2021 with rare human interaction outside of our families.

And then?

Clouds started to part and the world resumed at a safe distance. It sorta feels like everyone is trying to sweep our reality under the rug. As if the past year and a half was just a bad dream or something. I don’t know what’s going to happen next but I DO know that I want to stop pretending like last year didn’t affect you, too. As if Mother Nature trying to take down mankind doesn’t freak you the fuck out. Let’s talk about it, because with how earth-shattering 2020 was it’s the only year in the past 30 that’s ever felt really real to me. It was scary, and lonely, and honest, and raw.

And as much loss as there was - came a lot of growth. I hope you see that, too.

Thanks for indulging me. I hope you’re holding up on your end.

Talk again soon👋