Gray Matter

What Being Selected by the Everett Film Festival Represents A First Festival Is a Real Threshold Every film has a first moment when it steps out of private space and into public view. For Beneath the Same Sky , that moment will happen this spring at the Everett Film Festival, where the film will screen and where I have been invited to participate as a featured presenter. This is the film’s first official festival selection. It is also my first time bringing a professional short film into a festival environment as a filmmaker. That distinction matters. Not because it marks an endpoint, but because it confirms that the work is ready to be seen, discussed, and carried forward. Why the Everett Film Festival Is the Right Beginning The Everett Film Festival has a long history of elevating stories that explore women’s lives, lived experience, and emotional truth. What began as the Everett Women’s Film Festival in the late 1990s has grown into a respected regional festival with a clear p...

  Designing Fear Without Explanation A teaser trailer is often treated like a shorter version of a trailer. That assumption weakens it before it even begins. A trailer explains. A teaser suggests. A trailer gives context. A teaser creates anticipation and then steps back. When filmmakers blur that distinction, they usually reveal too much and gain very little in return. I am currently cutting a teaser for my next short film, Cemetery Hill , and the process has reinforced a lesson I have learned repeatedly over time. A teaser is not a summary of a film. It is its own creative object with a very specific responsibility. That responsibility is not to explain the story. It is to establish tone, restraint, and trust. The Real Job of a Teaser A teaser exists to communicate one thing clearly. This is the emotional experience you are offering. Nothing more. The moment a teaser starts introducing characters, outlining plot, or hinting at mythology, it begins to lose its power. Viewe...

Wrapping your first professional film feels like a milestone. The final shot is captured. The crew packs up. The drives are backed up. For a moment, it feels complete. Then things slow down. That quiet period after wrap is something many filmmakers are not prepared for. It is not failure. It is not loss of momentum. It is simply the moment when the work changes shape. This phase determines whether a film becomes a foundation for future work or quietly fades away. Wrap Is Not the Finish Line Production gives filmmakers structure by default. There is a schedule, a call sheet, and a shared goal that keeps everyone moving together. Once production ends, that structure disappears. What remains is responsibility. Suddenly, progress depends on decisions you make without external pressure. Editing, submissions, outreach, and follow through all require intention. Without a plan, even strong films stall here. This is not because the work lacks quality. It is because no one teaches filmma...

When people talk about filmmaking, they usually talk about the finished product. The screening. The festival. The moment the lights go down and the story finally belongs to an audience. What gets discussed far less is the community that makes those moments possible. Films do not come from nowhere. They come from people. From spaces that allow creativity to take shape. From systems that make it possible for artists to learn, practice, fail safely, and grow. Without those foundations, even the strongest stories struggle to survive. Ragged Films exists because of community. And Beneath the Same Sky was proof of what happens when that community is supported instead of stretched thin. A First Professional Step That Was Not Taken Alone Beneath the Same Sky was my first fully professional short film. It was not just a personal milestone. It was a collective one. Eighty percent of the film was shot at Harbor Island Studios, a space that represents far more than walls and soundproofing. H...