The Emotional Journey of Starting and Finishing Your SHort Film

In 2020, when COVID-19 hit the entire world, I didn’t slow down. True to form, I kept transitioning all my operations to virtual platforms. I learned how to do live streams, created an online course to generate passive income, and even produced an experience for Airbnb. I don’t give up easily. I look for ways to adapt. But after a year of these efforts that didn’t yield desirable results, I was exhausted. I had trouble getting out of bed. There was nothing physically wrong with me, but I just didn’t have the motivation to keep going. I felt miserable in meetings. It was starting to become scary; I knew something needed to change.

That’s when I started asking myself: What brings me joy? It was a simple question, but one I had a tough time answering. I have been made to believe that pursuing something for the sake of joy was selfish. However, since I no longer had the willpower to force myself to keep going, I decided to try something different. That’s when I reminded myself that I’d always wanted to create a film.

I’ve made videos before, of course, but I didn’t feel any of them were truly films. A film is something you think through and direct from beginning to end—something intentional. So, I decided to make a film.

But I found myself struggling to come up with ideas. It was strange because I’m known in my close circle as someone full of ideas. This was another clear sign of how stagnant my creativity had become. I hadn’t practiced enough, and my creative voice was so faint I could barely hear it.

But I was determined. I came up with the concept of an interview, layered with a dance sequence inspired by the conversation. I found the perfect talent for it. We agreed to shoot. Despite my determination, I felt like an imposter every step of the way. I questioned whether the idea was good enough, if there was a better way to execute it.

Only now, after completing the film and having it selected for the official selection of a video art and experimental film festival, do I feel like I know how to do it better. This was my number one lesson: The only way to know if an idea works is to test it. Fail to win.

When it came time to edit, I was overwhelmed. Editing has never come easily to me. It took years of practice to get to the point where I could start an edit and not stop after initially looking at the timeline. I used to procrastinate and avoid editing because looking at footage made me so stressed. I’d try to find any excuse to avoid it, but then feel guilty for taking too long to complete the project. It became a cycle. I knew I needed to stop it.

I came up with a system for myself: I would work on the edit for only one hour at a time. Knowing I had a set time limit helped put me at ease. If I got overwhelmed, I’d talk myself through it, giving myself permission to start anywhere—beginning, end, or middle—whatever made the most sense. I’ve learned over time that a rough cut isn’t supposed to be a final picture. In order to understand how all the shots work together, you first need some kind of sequence, and from there, you can figure out what’s missing, what’s extra, or what needs tweaking.

This brings me to my third trial in the gauntlet of my first film creation: finishing the film. After completing my first rough cut and showing it to my talent, colleagues, and others, I collected feedback. But I didn’t fully know how to apply it, so I decided to wait.

I picked up Rick Rubin’s The Creative Act, and in one chapter, he talks about the importance of finishing a project on time. He describes it as a capture of a particular state of being. The longer we wait to finish something, the further we get from our original state when we began the project. I realized my views were changing, my skills were improving, and if I waited too long, the film might become irrelevant.

So, I went back and did a completely different edit, cutting it down from 12 minutes to 5.

Finishing it allowed me to see how the idea I originally had transformed into a real project. It wasn’t exactly the same idea, but I was okay with that.

This practice helped me climb out of my creative dark hole. Today, I have a catalog of ideas where I compile concepts for films and creative projects. After completing this film, I’ve shot and finished numerous short video projects.

I hope that if you’re reading this blog and have an idea but feel unsure whether it’s worth pursuing—just do it. It’s the only way to find out.