What makes you do it?
On Jura I asked whether I was still a maker when no one's asking. The answer was yes. But why is a different question.
This week I finished two websites and wrote down every decision I made building them. Reading it back, I didn't recognize a web designer.
I recognized an editor.
I build like I cut
The promo film went through seven versions before one stuck. I didn't read my way there. I watched each one like a viewer, said one word, and asked for the next cut. That's a viewing. I've sat in hundreds.
A little brushed ampersand I loved came off the page because it said nothing. Kill the bit you love. Every editor learns that one, then keeps learning it.
Where the habit comes from
1998. My first Avid suite. I could operate everything. I didn't know what good looked like.
Then came twenty-eight years of producers and directors walking into a dark room, watching a cut, and telling me what was working and what wasn't. That's where I learned the job.
The room isn't the equipment. It's the second pair of eyes.
The best note came from home
When the Story & Magic site was nearly done, my wife read it. She isn't in television. She said it back to me in three short lines.
You bring the question. I take it to the studio. Everyone gets the answer.
I'd spent weeks trying to say that. She did it in seconds, because she wasn't inside it.
So, what makes me do this?
The room. The moment someone who isn't you watches your work and tells you the truth about it. Every good thing I've made came out of that moment. Most people making films alone have never had it.
That's why I built a studio, not a course. I wasn't designing websites this month. I was doing the one thing I know how to do, and hoping someone would watch.
If you make things alone, you'll have your own reason. Mine turned out to be other people. Come and be one.
Join the crew at Story & Magic
Keep going
It started on a beach on Jura
Some ideas arrive at a desk. This one arrived on a Hebridean beach, with a camera in my hand and a clear diary. Here's what it turned into, and where it goes next.
How I started
A wise boss, a producer's hunch, and a two-minute film about ducks. How I started editing in 1998.