Drinking Water (2018; 82 min.)

The most recent feature is a quiet, stubborn art film—something of a beautiful drag—about two estranged best friends who circle back to each other when things start to fall apart. It was written in a semi-collaboration with lead actor Sean Smith, who carries the film with a performance that feels lived-in rather than performed. Truly nuanced.

I play the other half of the story, a role complicated by the fact that I was also directing, producing, shooting, editing, and lighting—splitting attention in a way that leaves traces onscreen. The performance reflects that tension. Maybe it had to. But of course it's easy for an actor to give a director the performance they need when they are also the Director themselves.

The film leans into an ambitious edit—deliberate, searching, occasionally evasive—paired with scenery that does a quiet kind of heavy lifting. Visually, it settles into a style that feels consistent with its emotional weather: restrained, a little distant, but not cold.

I remember the process less as a plan and more as a series of decisions that felt, at the time, both creatively free and precise—as if I were taking risks while also, somehow, trying to outmaneuver them.

Forever Into Space (2015; 110 min.)

It became a long project—three years, more or less—held together by a small group of seven people who decided, quietly, to see it through. We stayed with it long enough for it to become something real, then carried it with us to festivals in different cities, letting it exist wherever it landed.

I worked across the whole thing—directing, writing, shooting, editing, producing—less as a statement than as a way of keeping the film intact as it moved from one phase to another. It was an immersive process. The kind where the work doesn’t separate cleanly from your days.

Nothing about it announced itself in the usual ways. No awards, no real money. But it had a life. It played in rooms, it found people, it held their attention for a while. That felt like enough.

At one point, it drew a stretch of major press—unexpected, slightly disorienting. For a moment, things opened up in a way that suggested other directions, other versions of what might come next. Then it settled back down.

What remains is the film itself, and the fact of it: a complete piece, made with full commitment, carried across time, and finished without compromise.

Holler and the Moan (2011; 93 min.)

It started with a lot of things before it crash-landed on the camera. Around 2009, I found one I could afford, one I could trust—something that made images feel like they belonged to a film, not just a recording. I didn’t know what I was doing yet. I learned slowly, then less slowly. It became a habit, then something closer to an obsession.

The film grew out of that. A documentary about Lee Miles—a singer-songwriter working at a high level while dealing with an illness that never fully explained itself. I followed him and the musicians around him through the northern Midwest. No real distance between us. Just time, movement, and attention.

I did everything on it—shooting, editing, directing, producing. Not for the sake of it, just to keep the process continuous. One decision leading to the next without interruption.

At the same time, I was writing constantly—music and film criticism—publishing more than anyone else in Fort Wayne. That helped. People knew me. They opened doors, gave their time, made space for the film to happen.

It played five festivals. No awards. That wasn’t really part of the equation.

What stayed was the feeling of it: learning how to make something by making it, staying close to the subject, and letting the work reflect that closeness.

Below you'll find a mix of short films I've made over the years. These films are all low- or no-budget and could be considered passion projects. All together, my short films have played at over 100 film festivals.

SkinJob in Trashtown (2024; 24 min.)

My most recent work is a no-budget experimental b-movie art film about class divide and waste in New York City. For this project I did all aspects aside from the score, which was done by NYC-based composer Leah Asher. The film played at 12 film festivals and won one award for Best Editing.