200 subscribers means a couple things to me. First and foremost it makes me stop and realize that I have access to hundreds of years of knowledge and experience. Not just access, but support, encouragement and well everything that keeps us here, together.

It also tells me that I have 200 people that will support my film when it one fine day reaches distribution.

And you 200 fine folks will tell your circle and then the math kicks in. This is how a movement grows. We feel success when others succeed. There's a lot of love already happening for films in the making or trying to be seen.

A short list would include works by , and Aaron Strand of who's currently touring the country with his film.

Message here is count your blessings and truly appreciate what we have here.

It's truly a wonderful place in a soul crushing world.

Don't give up.

Peace and Love to you all.

Tom

Navigating the world as an artist is, of course, a very general statement. What does that mean to me? It’s scary as f..k. It’s unfamiliar. It’s demanding. It doesn’t allow for bullshit. Right? You all get that. What amazes me and gives me hope is in this seemingly hopeless world you keep going. I’m especially drawn to those of you who open up and expose the personal reasons you do what you do.

People like , whose body of work is an expression of his childhood experience with trauma. Hudson explores this theme in different ways in his films. His latest, We Were Monsters, turns trauma into superpowers for its characters. I can’t wait to see this of course but I maybe appreciate more his sharing of the journey of making this film.

Another person that I look to for inspiration is . Courtney doesn’t pull any emotional punches. In fact, she started a separate Substack, about grief where, among other things, she shares her feelings on the passing of her father.

is the epitome of fearlessness, although I suspect she doesn’t quite see herself this way. Taylor doesn’t write about it much but I suspect there’s a lot of hard living that fuels her boundless enthusiasm and capacity to build for all of us.

I could literally go on for hundreds of pages, the folks here who share not only their successes, but more importantly for me their struggles. Going back to my original question; What is it like navigating the world as an artist? I’m finding a lot of guidance here.

Ultimately, of course, this is a question I have to answer for myself, in my own way. It’s a work in progress. It’s taking me to places I haven’t been in a long time. What’s been revealing is that when I think, but especially write about my past I find new insights that help explain myself to me. I’m looking at that young, innocent boy. His bursts of uncontrollable anger. The enjoyment of physical pain. Was this akin to cutting? What caused it? Was it the roots of what was finally diagnosed as bipolar disorder 25 years later? Was it a subconscious reaction to the world around me? I’m seeing positive influences that perhaps shaped who I became and am today. Mrs. Rodriguez, my best friend’s mom who would invite us into her home to share funny pancakes (tortillas) with her countless children. I see now that she didn’t have to do that. She was showing kindness. She knew that we were poor like them and would fill our stomachs.

As I introduce myself as another character in my documentary, sharing space with the activists (people who simply care in extraordinary ways), it leads me to a dreamlike exploration, swimming, diving deep trying not to be afraid of drowning. I’ve accepted that I’m not simply an observer, standing at a safe distance, letting the interviewees tackle the hard questions. Those questions are coming back at me, were always a part of me. I am the thread that weaves through my film and gently holds it together.

Perhaps, at least for me, creating something is ultimately the release of what I was afraid to share, born of a society that discourages individuality. This is scary stuff for me as I’m not oriented to try and create something that will, I hope, be seen by others and hold some worth beyond itself.

I’m glad to have found you folks. It makes this ride a little less scary.

T

In order to push ahead I’m going to make a compromise. I won’t get into the deeper psychological aspects of why the focus of my film has changed. This will come out in the film, although that’s still a work in progress. I’ll focus instead on where I’m at with the film and generally why it has shifted focus.

Not Me!

I told myself this from the very beginning. Hearing stories, reading about those projects that took 4 years, 12 years. Not me! I can build an apartment building in 18 months. These people taking so much more time must not be working very hard. I’m soo glad I never said that out loud back then. I’ve certainly learned, as I’m sure you all know, there are soo many ways a project can take more time. Not all of them are bad of course. This is what I want to focus on. Not the delays caused by external forces, but the necessary “delays” I’ve caused.

Doing Things Wrong

I’m learning doing things wrong has been my greatest teacher. And they weren’t really wrong. My interview questions became better. But they only became better because the previous interview informed where the story was leading me, what to explore more, what questions not to ask that weren’t necessary. I didn’t know starting out that this is normal for a lot of docs (and some narratives as well).

Our b roll became more intentional. In the beginning it was for setting, adding visuals to elements of the dialogue. As the story developed it became more about capturing the person in their natural settings. Washing their favorite mug at their kitchen sink, walking through their garden, their hands, and so on.

The most significant thing that happened came about when I asked myself a simple question: where is the tension? I had great interviews, so many nuggets as Ray and I called them, some good broll. But what makes this story pull you in? What reaches your soul?

The Question I Had to Answer for Myself

Ultimately the questions of: Why is this important? Why am I the person uniquely qualified to make it? and Why now? needed to be answered. All films need to answer these questions. Or at least they should. I felt I could answer the first and last questions. I wouldn’t have decided to make this film otherwise.

The second question is where the growth has occurred. From a filmmaking experience perspective I was certainly not qualified. I was naive and fearless enough to convince myself that I had the basic necessary tools. My son Ray first and foremost. They could shoot a film, edit, help me direct. I also felt qualified because I have been an activist and organizer since the early 80’s. I had the ability to interview as many activists as needed.

So Why Was I Struggling?

Things started to get more complex than simply a straightforward telling of the stories of the amazing activists I know. Early on the theme of empathy, of caring for those beyond the immediate circle of friends and family began to emerge. These themes deepened as they became more personal. I was greatly helped along in this process here on Substack, starting with . We interviewed each other as part of a 1:1 interview experiment started by . Tomas’ insightful questions helped me to see deeper, below the surface, into why I was making this film.

This continued with when he asked me to be a guest on his podcast Cinema Body/Cinema Mind. Through what started as a discussion about my experience viewing films as a child until now, Dario helped reveal to me the very personal nature of my film. As often happens with me, and I suspect others as well, the impact of our conversation extended beyond our discussion. Dario had written an eloquent introduction to our conversation that surprised and touched me. The way he saw our conversation and how he perceived me as a person had a deep effect on me. I watched the podcast many times after that, trying to objectively perceive the person he described.

I began to realize that I was the thread that ran through my story and held it together. I hadn’t wanted to be part of the film, no voice overs, not appearing on camera. Strictly behind the scenes. The tipping point came when I reached a point of emotional paralysis. I called the only person I thought would get what I was going through, Steve Rogers. I have known Steve for about 11 years. He was Ray’s mentor on their first film. He was the first person I called when I decided to make my documentary. He is the reason I’m on Substack. Steve said to Ray and I when we met up for coffee to discuss the film that we had to document the experience of making the film together.

I trusted Steve to understand my predicament and give me sound advice. Steve has produced a docuseries on NJPBS for the last 13 years called Here’s the Story. I laid out what I was struggling with and Steve immediately said; “Well that’s the film you have to make.” I really needed that validation. It has given me the confidence to shift this to more of a personal documentary.

Steve has also been filming Ray and I making the documentary for a segment on his show. Right after Steve told me that I had to make the film as I was feeling he immediately got excited about his segment and we did additional interviews focusing on the new themes we discussed. He also offered all of his footage for our film.

All’s Well That Ends Well

I wouldn’t want things to have unfolded any other way. Could it have happened faster? Not taken a year from last interview to now, where we are embarking on a fresh edit? I don’t think so. This is simply how it was meant to happen. If the film kept to a clear path it might be done by now but it wouldn’t be the film I envisioned.

Now of course I’m not at the end. There’s still a long road ahead. But one thing I’m more sure of now is that I’m on the right path.

So, yeah, there’s an online community here, and don’t get me wrong, it’s great. But “real” community; all our IRL meetups, , et al have the potential to do soo much more. They don’t harm their surroundings, they actually enrich them. That coffeehouse, local pub, bookstore, independent theater or art gallery benefit from our coming together. And not only in obvious ways. I’ve witnessed time after time that much beyond the short term economic infusion, community creates things we oftentimes can’t imagine. Let this sit with you for a moment. Think about all the things that have happened to you due to just simple being in community with others.

Another way I like to consider community is through agape. It’s a Greek word that means the highest form of love, charity and God’s love for humanity. I think of it in a secular way but the intent is the same. For me it’s those moments of a heightened sense of love that wash over me. It feels like the way things should be. I get that same feeling making my film, interacting with folks on FilmStack and the IRL meetups we have. These are the moments I chase, not consciously, but by being with the right people, in the right environments. To give myself the possibility of agape flowing in and out of me.

The beauty of art for me has become not simply of appreciation but experiential as I move through the process of creating something. This gives me a profound sense of community, of agape, which is universal and all-reaching. Yes, there’s a sense of responsibility since I’m telling real people’s stories, but overwhelmingly it’s a sense of joy, of the universe wrapping its arms around me, taking me in its womb where I feel at peace.

I have very few things I have to do when I get home from my day job. Basically, all I have to do is put my dishes in the dishwasher (and remember to do it the right way or my wife will rearrange them!), drop my laundry in the correct hamper, get the mail, remember to put out the garbage, the recycling (which I forget weeks on end until it piles up in my garage) and take care of the chickens (we’re fortunate to live on a 7.5 acre farm!)

I don’t know how you child rearing parents do it! et al… So all this is to say I have no excuse for procrastinating. I obviously have time to spare. But then I think, am I really procrastinating? Maybe this world of filmmaking, which is a way of life that I’m very new to, is just different from what I’m used to.

My day job is construction management. I’m nearing the end of finishing a 53 unit apartment building right now. This work relies on getting things done. Time is money. If something isn’t happening all the time that’s a problem.

I’m learning that in general filmmaking doesn’t follow these rules. Sure, on set it’s important to be organized and efficient. But I’m discovering the process itself, while sharing commonalities with putting a building up; it’s a slow process, one step builds to the next, is vastly different.

Now I realize I’m not telling any of you anything you don’t already know. Please bear with me, this is (hopefully) going somewhere. You know how you watch something or read something and feel you completely understand it and then struggle when trying to explain it to someone else? Well in my case that someone else is me. I read all the great writing on here, like . This essay in particular informs what I’m talking about here.

Despite nbv cxz (THAT WAS MY CAT WALKING OVER MY LAPTOP!)

Let me start over. Despite brilliant writing like Mauro’s, I find myself having to remind myself of what the filmmaking process involves. Things like just thinking; random thoughts that come to me at anytime. Seems most times it’s while driving a familiar route when I’m alone in the car and my mind is free of any particular thought or concern. All the little (but not so little) things that goes into the mental process of making a film. Again, you all know what I’m talking about.

Still, I’m impatient. While I embrace the process and the amazing journey I’ve been on I also want to see more than two and a half minutes of a rough cut.

This is probably a good place to talk about my film in any kind of detail for the first time so here goes!

Part Two: Voices for Change

Voices for Change is a lyrical portrait of activists, not in the streets, but in their kitchens, living rooms and quiet corners of the world where the real weight of change is carried. That’s my working logline.

Its genesis was a growing discontent I had with the political work and social activism I was doing and the state of these efforts in general. I felt what was missing was empathy, caring for one another. I’ve written here before about how empathy is the main reason we emerged as a species despite not being the strongest or having the largest brain. Although not a fully developed theme at the beginning, empathy has become the core of my film.

I first discussed making a documentary with my son . Ray had just made a short documentary as part of a class assignment and was disappointed that the group hadn’t picked a more meaningful subject than a day in the life of a college student. I basically blurted out what I’d been thinking about for a while but not particularly as a film: “Let’s make a documentary on activists!”

We filmed our first interview in late March 2025. In total we’ve filmed 9 interviews on weekends finishing this first round in August 2025. Our first few interviews were filmed using 2 Canons, basic lighting (often natural) and audio from the cameras with Ray’s iphone as backup. I felt pretty comfortable doing the interviews. I know the people I interviewed through my activist work. I left any b roll totally up to Ray and our AC , who’s been with us since day one. (Side note: Vinny is always looking for gigs! DM him!) Frankly I didn’t know what they were doing. It just looked like random filming. When I saw the 30 second trailer Ray put together after our 2nd interview it clicked that they were being intentional. Here’s the trailer:

Zellie Trailer

By our 5th interview we were joined by , an experienced documentary filmmaker with a lot better equipment and his wife Lily, who’s editing our POC (more on that later). We now had professional grade lighting and sound and filmed with two of Jose’s Sony FX6s.

Initially Ray was set to edit our POC but due to school obligations and other things Lily agreed to take over. We’ve got around two and a half minutes of a rough cut of a 5-7 minute POC. I’ll write in a future article my intentions with the POC.

I already have the original music, composed by . We are actually editing to his score. He did an amazing job at telling the story based on the beat sheet I gave him.

We also have an amazing animator/animation director in . Elena got the feel of what I’m trying to do right off the bat and has added some great ideas.

I’m not sure when the POC will be finished. Hoping for picture lock in a few weeks. Once it’s done I’d like to screen it on the lab.

Guess that’s all for now.

One of Avi’s questions to Ted was “do all filmmakers have to be leaders?” To summarize Ted’s answer, he replied that it’s necessary for filmmakers to accept that they have to be responsible for not only making a film but also the marketing and distribution. He emphasized that besides this being a reality for most filmmakers it’s also not a bad thing. It forces filmmakers to think and build their audience before even picking up a camera.

The interview led me to thoughts of when I was in college. I was initially an english major. I had aspirations to be a writer. I romanticized being a novelist and dedicated myself to it. I also found myself elected president of the english club. As I recall no one else wanted to do it. I met other english majors who were also writing poetry, short stories. I was inspired to start a magazine, which we called S.O.U.P. (Student Organized Uninhibited Publication). I taught myself how to use Aldous Pagemaker (what a dinosaur!) and convinced one of my professors to let us use part of his budget to print it.

We had a dozen or so poems, short stories, some artwork and my contribution, an essay on corporate capitalism. I was afraid to submit any fiction I’d written after reading the submissions from other students. I told myself I would never be a writer. But I was good at writing clear nonfiction pieces. (I ended up changing my major to anthropology).

I also learned a hard lesson making the magazine. I was working under a deadline so took it on myself to design the cover. I designed an open can of soup spilling letters out. I thought it was clever albeit a bit crude in execution. One of the artists in our group flipped out. Said it was terrible and we should have made a group decision. I tried to explain that I had a deadline to finish it and get it to the printer. She wasn’t having it. We were able to move on but I knew I would never exclude anyone from a creative decision again.

I guess what made me think of this is I believe it speaks to Avi’s question. I wasn’t the leader of our little student publication. I just brought people together and made it happen. I also learned that it’s a fine line between facilitating something and making decisions for others.

So to answer Avi’s question I think we do have leaders, starting with Ted.

But not leaders in the traditional sense.

We are all leaders here.

A leader doesn’t sit back and wait.

A leader also doesn’t take over and try to run things.

A leader lights a fire.

A leader shares knowledge as they know it makes us all stronger.

A leader is led themselves by love. They treat others as they want to be treated. They build up, not tear down.

For me this is the beating heart of FilmStack and the NonDe movement. Everything else we are building here matters but if we don’t carry this with us what are we really doing here?

So what about first dates? Well before I met my wife, with only a few exceptions, I never got past a first date. For me a first date wasn’t a feeling out period, I would lay out my soul unabashedly: “this is who I am”. This was more than most of my dates could handle and I guess who can blame them, right? But I didn’t care. If anything I’ve always tried to be honest and not play a role. I really embraced Sartre’s Existentialism. Be legitimate.

So what does this have to do with FilmStack dear reader? (I’ve always wanted to write that!). Let me try to explain. A few people have reached out to me after reading my substack or in response to a comment I made on their post. I’ve had a zoom call with a filmmaker and had drinks with a first time documentary filmmaker last night then caught a movie that her editor had made. More offers are coming in to chat all the time. My mindset going into these is it’s like a first date. I tell them who I am, what I’m trying to accomplish with complete openess. But unlike those past failed first dates, these have been reciprocal. The other person is interested, engaged, and has as much or more to share with me. Now this is my idea of a great first date!

So this got me thinking about the larger themes of community. What I’m doing isn’t networking. I’m not seeking career advancement from these encounters. It’s really just an organic, just feels right kind of outreach. No expectations, just talking about what we are doing, how we’re doing it, our struggles and successes, hopes and dreams. We end our conversations with promises to stay in touch. And I believe we will. It’s not like those blow off comments so many people hear like “I’ll give you a call” and you know they never will. Rinse and repeat. That must be hell for those of you who’ve had to deal with the normal networking process for years. I think we’re creating a new model of interaction here on FilmStack. Fuck that. I know we are. I’m proof.

More reoccurring themes I’ve noticed in my posts I can trace back to my very first post where I wrote that my substack wasn’t going to be about someone making their first film at 62 as an inspiration to others. I was just sharing whatever thoughts came into my head as I made my film. They are truly random. But they did have a common thread. They are reflections, impressions of community that have become more intentional as I see these themes more clearly. I’m also going to write more about my documentary. What my journey has been making it.

Okay I’ve exhausted this random thought about first dates. I hope you’ve enjoyed it. Maybe it will encourage you to reach out to someone you admire and want to get to know better outside of substack. I highly recommend it!

My team, Top Middle: Steve Rogers, Top Right: Justin Banks, Middle Right: Jose Pichardo, Bottom Left: Lily Ramos, and Bottom right: myself, , Ray Violett, John Stillwagon andVinny Albano

I really don’t know where to start. 2025 has been such a seminal year for me. It started out like any other year but then things took a hard right. I guess I can say the moment I started to drift from my lane (continuing the driving metaphor) was when I went with my son to a shoot they were assisting on. I had already been thinking about the documentary by then, having discussions with Ray, but then it started to become real. I mentioned the film to Vinny Albano, a classmate of Ray’s who was also filming that day. He was really excited as he had just finished a short doc and really wanted to do another one. He offered to work with Ray and I on our film. And so it began.

What began was ten months of filming interviews, absorbing as much as I could about filmmaking (thanks FilmStack! you literally saved me tens of thousands of dollars pursuing a master’s degree!), attending every filmmaker mixer I could find in New Jersey, NYC and Philadelphia, founding a Video Consortium Hub in New Jersey and seeing as many docs as I could at screenings, festivals or from my couch. Whew!

Along the way other amazing people have joined the team. John Stillwagon shot BTS at the interviews, and his wife Lily brought their knowledge and equipment! to the interviews, joined out film after I met him at a mixer and has composed the music for our POC, Steve Rogers, who has been an invaluable resource since day 1, and finally, Elena Toccafondi, who will be adding animation and assisting with the edit.

I’m going to let the pictures tell the story from here:

…Vinny Albano on the left and Ray Violett, setting up for our first interview.

Downloading footage after the first interview

Finishing up our 2nd interview with Zellie Thomas, founder of BLM Paterson.

Capturing B roll

Our third interview with Alan Powell, a professor, artist and experimental filmmaker since the early ‘70s

Back to my house after a shoot.

Attending a filmmaker event where Ray told students about our project.

Ready for our next interview with Anthony Diaz, the founder of the Newark Water Coalition

Gotta get that BTS!

Again, have to at least feed the crew!

Attending a festival in Jersey City with my good friend Anthony Marinelli, an amazing editor, filmmaker and playwright.

Video Consortium event in Brooklyn

The family minivan to haul equipment and crew.

Today posted her top films and invited myself, and to chime in. I didn’t respond to Dario’s call for submissions as I haven’t seen a lot of films this year.

Sara’s prompt made me realize that I had seen quite a few documentaries this year. As I began to compile a list I realized almost all of them had an interesting backstory. So here’s my list of documentaries I saw in 2025. This is by no means a ranking.

1. Seeds - this one really snuck up on me. For the first ten minutes I thought, what am I watching? But then I got the filmmakers intention. A quietly powerful film.

2. The Perfect Neighbor - probably the most watched doc this year thanks to Netflix. But unlike most of the docs on Netflix this one definitely lived up to the hype.

3. Nuns at the Vatican - have to include this one. My animator was an editor on the project. It’s also very good.

4. The Encampments - not a technically polished movie but definitely was in the right place at the right time. One of the main characters was sitting in a jail cell when the film premiered, arrested by ICE and facing deportation. Ray and I saw it’s first showing at the Angelika in NYC. Was a packed house and an amazing communal experience. People were commenting on the film as it was screening but it made it more real, not annoying at all.

5. Bad Things Happen in Philadelphia - also saw this with Ray at a community event sponsored by the Video Consortium. Ray and I met the director, Kyra Knox, at a festival where Ray had a couple films. It’s Kyra’s first documentary and not only is the story inspiring but Kyra herself is an inspiration. She left her corporate job a couple years ago to pursue her dream of making films and she’s absolutely killing it. She won her first Emmy this year!

6. Engogo - directed by Kevin Schreck, a fellow Minnesotan. It tells the amazing story of Engogo Lumunba-Kasingo, a female rapper who’s pursuing her PhD at the same time. It’s simple but powerful use of animation has inspired my use of it in my film.

7. Trail mix - directed by Glenn Sweitzer. Ray and I met Glenn at the NJ Documentary Film Festival. He was the only one in the small theater when we first got there and I thought he was with the festival. We have a lot in common and really hit it off. Glenn has an interesting story. He travels from festival to festival in a van converted into a camper. What a great way to travel and do the festival circuit. Glenn’s film idea started when he would watch hikers on the Appalachian trail from his home outside of Nashville. One day he grabbed a camera and started talking to hikers. This seemingly simple storyline really goes deep. Just as with Kyra this is Glenn’s first film.

8. The River - produced by (who’s also DP on my film). The River tells the story of Emmett Till’s murder in a very unique way. It follows the Tallahatchie river where Emmett’s body was dumped using drone footage filmed by Jose. It is a factual presentation of what happened with new evidence that challenges the original findings of the murder investigation. It’s a quietly powerful film. It’s currently being shown at universities and just premiered at Flixfest, where it won best documentary. Jose’s wife, Lily, edited the film.

A couple more that I wanted to see in 2025 but may have to wait until next year:

• Invisible Nation - duh!

• Secret Mall Apartment

• So many more!

That’s all Folks!

So what exactly are we doing here? I should probably define what I mean by community. If community is an organizational structure, an instruction manual, a clearly defined path; do this and this and you will get that, we’re not building a NonDé community. And thank goodness for that.

You could say we’re building a movement. I think that’s closer to the mark. Different film movements in the past have created manifestos. I think these are valuable. They get us thinking about what we’re doing, give some shape to it. See the work and others are doing. I think they can be counter productive if they lay down a set of rules, i.e. you must film in B&W, shoot on 16mm, etc.

I see what we’re doing as most akin to mutual aid. Mutual aid has been around a long time, even if it wasn’t called that until quite recently. It’s actually the reason we as one of six species that roamed the earth ions ago survived. We cared for each other. The anthropologist Margaret Mead pinpoints this upon discovering an artifact, a leg that had obviously been broken and allowed to heal. The group had deemed it important for their survival to heal the sick, the injured.

Most of us became aware of mutual aid, very likely had direct experience with it, due to the pandemic. Mutual aid sprung up everywhere. There was a guy near where I live who bought a big plastic bin and filled it with food. Free for the taking, no questions asked, no forms to fill out. No asking for permission. My wife and son (Ray) and I built a blessing box at our local church. Someone painted a sign: “Take what you need. Leave what you can.” That box is still there, being used.

Another comrade (a term used among activists that doesn’t necessarily mean communist, although it can) had started a mutual aid group even prior to the pandemic. She saw that there was a need. The system wasn’t working for most. She decided to find another way. She didn’t start a nonprofit, didn’t form a hierarchy with her at the top of the pyramid. She did the work, found food for people, a place to sleep. She did this while living in her car. An amazing thing happened. Those that were helped began helping others. They began organizing to meet immediate needs. They didn’t build a community. They were the community. The lifted each other up. This mutual aid group is still operating, stronger than ever. It’s run by the community for the community. This is just one example. There are many others.

So this is how I see Nondé. This is what keeps drawing me in more and more. For me, at its core NonDé is not simply a place where we all feel that the system is not working, We are here because we are compelled to tell our stories. It is fundamental to our state of being. It’s who we are. We are that person tens of thousands of years ago who healed that bone with the hope that through their action it would somehow create a more loving, caring world.

I love each and every one of you. Who knows where this thing will go. But we are doing it. We are trying. This is NonDé.

Have a great holiday and I’m so looking forward to 2026!

LFG!

This post will have some similarities to my first post 4 months ago. I’m still a first time filmmaker. I still won’t be talking about films as much as other folks, and my inspirations are personal.

I’m finding as I seek inspiration I’m practically tripping over it everywhere.

INSPIRATION #1:

I know, this requires some explanation. For those who don’t know, I’m a construction project manager at my day job. This is the first course of a retaining wall. It will be buried and never seen again, yet look at the care the mason took to make the block meet so perfectly at this odd angle. This inspires me. To take such pride, knowing that no one will likely ever notice.

INSPIRATION #2:

My son Ray and I went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art this past Saturday morning. Ray was seeking extra credit for a class they’re taking which required them to take a picture and selfie in front of 3 objects. The first was an Egyptian tablet, the second was a painting by Monet and the third was a photo of a Rayascope. Neither of us had a clue what that was. I was in awe of the Egyptian artifacts, the details of the paintings on the sarcophagi (I had to look that up). As wonderful as they were they weren’t really inspiring. As we walked through the Egyptian, Roman and Greek sections all I kept thinking was “look at all this stolen stuff!” Next on to the second floor where we found 18th and 19th century European paintings. I’m somewhat familiar with art history and could readily identify the artists and the periods as we went from room to room. Sure, the paintings were beautiful, I stood in awe in front of a Van Gogh from his Arles Period. Inspiration? I wasn’t feeling it.

Then we went to the special exhibit on Man Ray. Bingo! I confess I knew next to nothing about Man Ray other than he was somehow connected to the Surreal and Dadaist movements. I learned that Ray had accidentally discovered he could produce photographs without a camera by using a light source which reflected an object onto a special type of paper, creating an image. He developed a device called a Rayascope. He played with these images, blurring them, distorting the image. The results were, well, surreal. Yet they were also somehow familiar. The technique didn’t remove the humanity, the emotion, the connection I felt to the work. The most inspirational moment for me was the final part of the exhibit which had a short film which employed the technique found in his photographs. Again, I found it very familiar, the technique heightened this feeling rather than detracted from it. As I stood there watching I thought of my own film. I had already planned to use animation to depict the actions of activists rather than employing verite or archival footage. My reasoning was I didn’t want the emphasis to be on the reality of what activists do but rather the underlying motivations, born from their unique experiences.

INSPIRATION #3:

My son Ray, at his first FilmStack IRL meetup in NYC. Boy, I’ve been wanting this to happen for a long time! To see it come to fruition, to see the way Ray interacted with the amazing community we have built! I initially was drawn to FilmStack as a way for me to accelerate my knowledge base. It wasn’t long before I realized what I had discovered, and knew I had to involve Ray and his peers, some of whom are working on my documentary. They were all in film school and I knew from my conversations with them that they were not learning what was being freely shared on FilmStack. Ray was fortunate to have a community of caring, collaborative peers in the honors video production program they had in high school. There formed a group of passionate, kind and selfless friends who just loved to make movies together. We parents became friends and are all their biggest fans. This is FilmStack. This vibe, this approach, is what I want for Ray and his friends.

INSPIRATION #4:

Ray and I finally got to meet our animator in person! Our original animator had to drop out of the project and we had talked to 3 other animators before we found Elena Toccafondi. Even before our first Zoom call Elena had been putting ideas together based on my treatment. It was fantastic to find someone who not only got what I was trying to do but had great ideas about how to portray those ideas. We met at the Washington Square Restaurant this past Saturday right after the NYC IRL meetup. Elena had more ideas she had sketched out and we had a great conversation. Elena could understand the often not well articulated ideas I had (with great insight from Ray!)

So, yeah, I’ve literally been tripping over inspiration(s) since I started this journey. Starting with Ray, then his friends who wanted to join our effort, then meeting Jose Pichardo and his wife Lily and them joining us and connecting on a deep level with our shared journeys. The people who have readily offered help along the way. You FilmStackers!

Inspiration is all around us if we stay open to it and recognize it when it comes and embrace it.

Let’s keep this inspirational challenge going! DM and sign up!

This just occurred to me as I was having an inner monologue about a filmmakers event I attended last week. The event attracted local screenwriters, composers, editors and filmmakers working in narrative and non-narrative. It was an interesting group of people but definitely didn’t have the vibe of FilmStack. At the meetings I gravitated toward the younger people and those that didn’t look like they should be there.

The formal part of the meetings start with each person introducing themselves and briefly stating what they do. At last week’s meeting the organizer had a guest speaker, a unit production manager on a very popular television show currently airing. He admitted in his opening remarks that he wasn’t an artist and admired the work of the people in attendance. He was an interesting speaker, had an entertaining story of how he entered the business. He readily answered questions from the audience. Then towards the end things took a weird turn. A young filmmaker asked about the different traditional ways to break into the industry and if he had any advice. As he began to answer, his body language changed from relaxed to fidgety and he fumbled through a response centered around that he wasn’t really in a position to help anyone get a job, something about the state of the industry, that he might soon be out of work himself…it was very weird. I actually thought it was a bit comical, but sad at the same time. Obviously he is asked often if he can help with getting a job in the industry. He really didn’t know how to answer and give any advice on different paths to take to break into the industry. It was as if he realized anything he would say would be utter bs. He seemed like a genuine, nice guy. I don’t think he could bring himself to lie and give anyone false hope.

As I sat there watching this poor guy squirm my first thought was to stand up and tell the audience that there was in fact a way, but not by listening to anything the guy standing in front of them had to say - even if he did have something to say. The way to make your films, “succeed” in starting and sustaining a career was this thing called NonDe! Of course I didn’t do that. What I did do was talk one on one to as many people as I could afterwards. Exchanging contact information. Adding them to my list of people to stay in touch with. You know, organizing stuff.

I’m finding that where I started off at making my first documentary has branched out once again. Not only is the subject matter of the film itself an effort to continue my activism but the making of the film has become part of this effort. Going to events, meetups, learning the landscape of the community. This is community organizing 101. Include in this meeting folks here on FilmStack, learning even more about the filmmaking landscape., leading me to the NonDe movement. Now I’m realizing that I can help organize the NonDe movement right where I’m at, in the community around me. I had, if not the answer, at least a path to offer. The well intentioned speaker could offer nothing.

As I draw parallels, examples of how community organizing methods and goals have informed my journey I’m realizing that it goes beyond that. It is also a continuation of my education in anthropology. Although I’ve never worked specifically as an anthropologist I’ve used what I learned throughout my life. I’m definitely using it here. I believe we all are. One of the core tenets of anthropology is the anthropologist’s role as participant/observer. We’re not only discussing the theory, philosophy, creating Manifesto’s about NonDe, which are all valid and essential. We’re also doing it. We are participants. We’re making NonDe films, we’re getting together IRL to create community around it, stimulate conversation, find new elements of NonDe in real time. Is that IRT?

This is a powerful way to create change. Make theory, create manifestos as has been guiding us, discuss and argue over philosophies but also just do it. Paraphrasing , fail fast! Create challenges (50 NonDe films in 2026) again . What? 50 days of inspirations from writers on FilmStack, . No way. Can’t happen. Yet what are we at, 59 people committed to do a NonDe film in 2026. Well over 100 daily inspirational posts. How can you stop a movement that has as its rallying cry LFG!

I’ve been excitedly following what has been organizing out in Portland. The IRL meetups. I wish I was at the recent one in London!

I’m looking forward to hearing about what other organizing is happening among FilmStackers in the NonDe movement!

Drop a comment!

I write this because it has impacted how I’m thinking about my documentary. All people have emotional reactions when a tragic event occurs within their immediate family. It’s visceral, knocks you off balance. We also feel, although perhaps not as intensely, when something happens to a relative or a close friend, and to a lesser extent when a neighbor or well known member of the community experiences a tragedy. These emotions by and large, are universal. They cut across world views, political beliefs and cultures. (I’m purposely leaving sociopaths outside of this discussion).

I think it would be fair to say that beyond these circles of caring, of empathy, most people don’t feel much for anyone else. Sure, there’s this weird outpouring when a well known actor or sports figure or other public figure dies. We are effected from the late night commercials of emaciated children in Africa or cute animals that were abused and need a home. This is emotional manipulation, not genuine caring. Or are we able to care for something beyond our own circles of caring, even if it is manipulated to an extent? Are we limited to how far our empathy can extend? What about people like activists who empathize with people they will never meet and issues that will never effect them? Do they possess a unique trait? Universal empathy perhaps?

These are the highly personal themes, that after months of filming interviews and thinking and writing about my documentary, have been coming to the surface. I’ve known since my earliest memory that I am a highly empathetic person. It wasn’t until I was a young adult that I began meeting people like myself. Until that point life was very difficult. I felt like an alien on a planet where I didn’t belong. Finding the activist community, where people cared about others and put in the work to try to effect change was overwhelming. Activists aren’t perfect. They aren’t saints. They don’t all show their empathy in the same way. But there is an overriding theme that they want to improve the lives of all, not just some.

I realize my posts are different than most on Filmstack. I rarely write about cinema in general, what’s involved in making a film. Here I’m a student. All I can do is share where this film is taking me on a personal level. I want to thank for helping me unpack some of the personal reasons for why I’m making this documentary in the 1:1 interview we did together a few weeks ago. I understand it’s going to be published on December 3rd.

I’ve said it before but will keep saying it; thanks to you, Filmstack community, for your sharing, your support. It’s been a vital part of my filmmaking journey.

“The children are always ours, every single one of them, all over the globe; and I am beginning to suspect that whoever is incapable of recognizing this may be incapable of morality”.

James Baldwin

Soon after, I started my Substack, centering my posts around my personal journey making the film. I never could have imagined this highly personal undertaking, sharing my thoughts like a diary entry not expecting anyone to read, would introduce me to the #FilmStack community and this NonDe movement. Crazy thing is it all feels so natural, like it was supposed to happen at this time and in this way. Isn’t that how any movement is born? It feels like the first time I met an activist and realized I wasn’t the only one in the world who thought and felt like I did. This discovering of the strength of community is the most profound and powerful thing. It is the birth of civilization.

Okay, I’m getting a little off track. I just want to emphasize that the community we have here is absolutely in beautiful relation to the works we create.

So back to where I was to start: the actual making of the film. The first step was to get Ray to agree to make it with me. This wasn’t hard but it was crucial. Without Ray there was no film. I hadn’t (and still have very little!) idea how to make a film other than watching Ray at work over the last ten years.

Next, I looked through my contacts and started to decide among hundreds of potential people to interview who I thought would be the best. My criteria: was their story compelling, did they tell it well? I was also looking for diversity. I didn’t want to just interview old white guys like me. Proximity was also a consideration. The furthest we traveled was to the Catskills, about a 4 hour drive. We combined a short vacation with the interview to make the trip worth it.

The crew grew organically. I was speaking to one of Ray’s friends, Vinny Albano, also a filmmaker (all of Ray’s friends are filmmakers, actors, singers, musicians I just realized, cool!) and he said he would love to work with us. Although he’d done mostly narrative he’d done a short doc and really wanted to do more. The next addition to our crew was John Stillwagon, another of Ray’s friends. Although John was going to film school in Ithaca when he was in Jersey he would film with us, mostly BTS. I found my next crew member(s) on LinkedIn! I was just looking to find filmmakers working in the documentary space in New Jersey and I connected with Jose Pichardo Jr and his wife Lillian (Lily) Ramos. We immediately hit it off. Jose and Lily saw my vision, which closely aligned with their films. They had just finished an incredible documentary film on Emmett Till called The River and also traveled yearly to the Mississippi Delta to teach filmmaking to underprivileged kids.

We filmed on weekends as Jose, Lily and I still have day jobs and the rest are in college. We filmed in people’s homes, offices, a church and even a community garden. Everyone has a lot of experience on setup. It usually took about 30 minutes. Dealing with different lighting, sound, spaces, where the interviewee would sit, where I would sit. They were great.

I did the interviews. I knew the people and had a set of questions that would help me with my story arc. Although I had a good idea what I was looking for I also wanted to leave space for the story to be informed by the interviews. Steve Rogers gave me my first question. He said he always led off with: “Tell me about your childhood”. For most interviews this was all it took to get into their inspirations, understanding their motivations, feelings; fears and hopes. My questions also changed over time. At the end of my 4th interview I thought to ask “You wake up, open your eyes, what does the world look like that you want to see?” This tough guy who grew up on the streets of Newark paused, took a deep breath, started to talk, then started to cry. We all felt overwhelmed with emotion. I stood up and hugged him. I don’t know how to write about the interviews. I thought it would just be about asking questions and filming the answers. I knew they would be interesting but couldn’t have imagined how impactful the process of sitting with someone and having a conversation, where the cameras and lights disappeared and people opened their hearts and souls to us. The young filmmakers soaked up every detail, they were being exposed to first person history. At the end of the second interview I turned to the crew and asked if they had any questions. Boy did they! Amazing, insightful questions. They heard things I didn’t and gave the interviews so much more depth. We have done 9 interviews so far. We’ve interviewed people fighting for issues like universal healthcare, education, community empowerment, racial justice, decarceration, homelessness, government corruption.

We began filming with a couple of cheap Canon’s, and rudimentary audio and lighting. With the addition of Jose and Lily we’ve been filming with Sony FX6s and professional grade lighting and sound equipment.

We’re also having so much fun! We usually travel together in my minivan packed with our equipment. After the shoot we hit up a local diner or folks come back to my place for a barbecue. We’re all doing this for the love of making something truly meaningful. I work with Jose and Lily to continue developing a distribution strategy to make sure as many people as possible see the film.

We’ve taken a pause on interviews while we put together a POC. An amazing composer, Justin Banks, has joined the team and has already done some of the music. I’ve just brought onboard an animator, Elena Toccafundi. This will be a lyrical, poetic documentary that makes an emotional connection, using animation along with footage.

Here is some BTS of us filming and in general having a great time! Ray will kill me but one of the pictures is of them making their first film!

The film itself, directed by Kevin Schreck (I’m now determined to bring him into the #FilmStack/NonDe fold!) told the story of a young black rapper who at the beginning of the doc was a PhD candidate. She was also a first generation African American. It was an amazing film. I really encourage you to find it.

I wasn’t sure about the animation at first. It was white background with black pencil drawn lines. Sort of whimsical. As we moved through the film it continued this theme but it became more detailed, emotional. I began to see the intention. The live action was so vivid that this was a great juxtaposition that allowed space for me to fill in what I saw between the beautifully drawn lines.

Afterwards Kevin and one of the animators did a nice Q&A and I learned that this film had all black woman animators, which may be a first, and predominately black crew. Kevin is this very white guy from Minnesota. But it worked. Kuddos to Kevin for giving space. This alone made the film an amazing accomplishment.

I was able to speak to Kevin in the lobby along with the amazing animator and we exchanged contact information.

Moral of the story? Talk to people around you. You never know what connections can be made. And I don’t mean just to further your career but to widen your experience and feel a deeper connection to those around you.

The songwriter got it wrong. It’s not people who need people. It’s People need people!

BTW I never got to see the film I went to see. Sorry Sean!

Courtney touched a nerve using the term “passion project” and the perverted way it is thrown around. The first time I heard the term was when my kid Ray described a horror/comedy they had wrote, directed and were editing. It was not even thought about that everyone was “working for free”. The crew and actors were their friends and this is what they did. It wasn’t “they’re my friends so they’ll do it for nothing”. That’s a totally different thing.

On the one hand my socialist self knows that all labor has value and that people should be paid. However, this is relevant to the capitalist system where labor is often (always?) exploited. It’s something entirely different when people work cooperatively. The economic, capitalistic component is removed. People work together out of common interest and passions. I’ve seen it in places like mutual aid groups. It’s a beautiful thing.

Okay, I can hear you now. This is great but we need money to live. This is the system we live in. I agree. But it’s how you operate in that system that is important. Specifically in making films the perception that working with someone for free on a passion project is exploitive. Here an important distinction, a way of thinking, needs to be made. It’s critical to examine how filmmakers in the NonDe movement work together. It doesn’t mean working on each other’s films for free but rather offering advice, support, best practices and most important community.

My organizer self tells me I shouldn’t be offering any kind of advice. I’ve only been a filmmaker (this still sounds odd to me) for about 8 months. I was trained as an organizer and international development worker that you listened and learned and only when you felt the community had accepted you did you start to say anything. And when you did, to say as little as possible. The ideas, the conversations came from the community.

I’m breaking this rule for a couple of reasons. First because I’ve felt immediately accepted by the #FilmStack community. I’ve also felt that people have appreciated what I’ve had to say knowing that I’m just starting out. I also feel I can add something to the conversation due to my extensive experience in organizing, whether at the community level or working on a presidential campaign. What is being built here is special. Having been part of many organizations from their formation to how they’ve sustained their efforts I can tell you NonDe folks that you’re rocking it! My experience with artists has been mostly that they’re lone wolves. I recently had a conversation with a friend who has produced a docuseries on PBS for the last 13 years, mostly as a solo act. He told me he was really impressed by what I was describing to him about this #FilmStack community and the NonDe movement. He shared that most artists don’t work well with others and admitted he was like that. I’m trying to help him by joining our community as his show is ending due to PBS funding drying up.

I’ve marched, shouted and shared a jail cell with some really badass people over the years. Yelled “No Justice, No Peace!” until I was hoarse.

You people are also badass!

Yes, LFGGG!

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I don’t remember when I first heard the term “sweet spot”. I was describing to someone the feeling when your feet moved the way they should, your body was perfectly positioned, your swing was fluid and effortless and there was a feeling when you hit the ball; it’s almost like you didn’t feel the ball on the racquet. They said, that’s the sweet spot!

That became the point for me when I played. Finding that sweet spot. It was rapturous when I found it. I played almost like an addict looking for their next fix.

I played tennis for almost ten years. Then one day it all ended. I was in college and we were practicing for an upcoming match. Out of nowhere the ball began to jump then disappear. I couldn’t hit it. I stood there dazed then thought to put my hand over my left eye. It was like I was looking through a coke bottle. I can’t describe what I felt at the time. I guess I was in shock. Eventually I was told I had chorioretinitis. A fancy way of saying that a blood vessel had burst behind my eye and flooded it. The best they could do at the time was crude laser surgery where they basically burned the center of my eye, the macula, to restore some vision. It helped. I had peripheral vision but the central vision was gone forever. I had virtually no depth perception. Made it kind of hard to hit something moving over 60 mph.

So what does this all have to do with filmmaking? Simply put, filmmaking has become my second passion in life. I’ve only been at it for about 8 months, making my first film, a documentary with my kid Ray. But soon after I started my film I felt that same energy and excitement as when I first started playing tennis 50 (oh my god!) years ago.

Of course, there’s a lot more going on making a film than standing in front of a net with another person on the other side. Our last shoot we had 8 people on set. 2 fixed cameras on the interviewee, 1 taking b roll, another shooting BTS that wasn’t part of our crew but was shooting to do a possible segment on us for his docuseries on PBS(Not sure how that’s going to go now that NJPBS is officially closed for business.), 1 shooting BTS of the BTS, our editor and our composer and me doing the interview. It was in the person’s home. A very small home. We were jammed into his living room, with my friend from PBS shooting in the doorway leading to the dining room and our BTS set up on the stairs overlooking the living room.

Despite all this when I sat down in front of the interviewee and he began to answer my questions, as I’m finding in all of my interviews, there’s a point, usually many of them, where I feel that sweet spot.

But now, it’s even sweeter! Now Ray is there with me. When I feel it I glance over at them and see they feel it too. Now that’s really THE SWEET SPOT! Making this film together is a series of sweet spots. Ray getting the shot that just captures my vision, their editing sensibilities, often seeing things I don’t and always so perfectly serving the story.

I’m lucky having my kid film with me. I also feel lucky to have found and be accepted by this #FilmStack community. I’m truly grateful.

Let’s keep finding that sweet spot together!

Then I began interviewing. My good friend Steve Rogers (producer of “Here’s the Story” on PBS for the last 13 years) gave me my first interview question; “tell me about your childhood”. What a great question! I was interviewing people that have been interviewed many times, some on places like CNN, CNBC, FOX but they rarely, if ever, had been asked that question. I found out so much about my subject’s background, their influences, where they drew their inspiration.

Well sort of. I was finding out a lot more about them from what they weren’t saying. The connections I (and my crew) saw that they didn’t always see. We had a different perspective. I don’t know if it was by accident or intention, but at the end of my second interview I turned to my crew, my kid Ray and another young filmmaker, Vinny Albano, and asked if they had any questions. And they did! Great questions! They perceived the interview differently than I had. They asked questions I would have never thought of asking. Looking back, here is where my documentary began to take a different direction. It wasn’t all at once, but it gradually creeped in and started to change the way I was thinking about the focus of the documentary.

Where I eventually landed after completing 8 interviews was radically different than from where I had set out. I decided no archival footage, no verite. I would focus on the stories themselves. But not just the stories, what the interviewees were saying, but what they were SAYING. My documentary took on a much more experimental, poetic focus. I realized in the interviews that I wasn’t hearing a “how to” on being an organizer. It wasn’t this is this and that is that. It was more poetic, where this is that. I brought on a composer for original music, an animator to represent and express protests but not be literal.

Now I understood the central question I really was trying to answer. But discovering it was like being in therapy. Someone or in this case something else has to at times pull that reason out of you. The experience up to this point of making the documentary allowed me to see what I was looking for. When I realized what it was it was one of those duh! moments.

So here it is: drum roll please! I was really trying to find out who I am. It was as simple and impossibly complex as that. Isn’t that what we’re all doing? I hope so.

Why was I this kid, from my earliest memory questioning why things were like they were. This couldn’t possible be the way things had to be. I have to tell you (many of you probably already know otherwise you wouldn’t be filmmakers) this is not an easy way to start off and find your way in this world. It wasn’t until I found comrades in the activist community that I started to find my way. Started to find answers. This is why I’m making this documentary. Trying to find answers. Or at least some good travel partners along the way. Hop on board!

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I have 8 interviews in the can. Each one better than the last. I know this because I’ve gotten better at interviewing. I had started with some standard questions I planned to ask. My lead off was recommended to me by Steve Rogers, who among other things has produced the docu series “Here’s the Story” for the past 13 years for PBS. He said he always asks people “Tell me about your childhood”. I’ve always hit paydirt with this question. My documentary is about the personal stories of activists and what inspires them to do what they do. I think they don’t expect this question and it works wonders to set the tone that this isn’t an interview about the work they do but about them!

Once I finished these interviews I realized that I wanted to adapt my original idea for the film. From the outset I was open to the interviews informing the story arc. As an activist I know why I do what I do but was intrigued with what were the stories of other activists. What I learned from the interviews was that I really wanted to completely focus on their stories. They were so powerful. I often found myself getting emotional and a couple of people cried. I was no longer interested in my original idea of filming the activists in action at protests or archival footage of protests. I would allude to it but wanted the to activists themselves to be front and center. To achieve this I decided the documentary would be in the poetic vein. I brought on board a composer as I want original music and an animator to help represent the actions of activists without being too literal.

I also decided to take a pause with the interviews and put together a 5 minute POC. I really need to see my vision and let it inform how I will continue to shoot the film, what additional questions I might ask and to inform the b roll we shoot.

I’m excited to see my vision. I tried my hand at writing a long time ago but was never satisfied with getting what was in my head onto paper. Fortunately I don’t suffer from imposter syndrome. I’ve always been confident in my ability to accomplish what I set out to do. I have planned from day one my impact distribution strategy before I even knew it had a name and that there were actually impact producers. This came from my background as an organizer. I’ve always considered this film an organizing project. The making is one thing, but how and who will see it, who and how they will benefit has been a driving force behind the documentary. While I’m not on a timetable I do want to capture the zeitgeist of the climate we’re living in and try to show in my film that activists are real people that you can identify with. They’re not criminals or un-American as they are often portrayed.

The essence of why I want to see my POC is to know if I’m on the right track. To answer the questions: “Will the average person, especially those currently under the spell of the right’s world view find this film accessible?”, “Does it create an emotional attachment?” “Does it create a better understanding of what it means to be an activist?” “Will it be inspirational?”

I have a strong feeling that my documentary will offer some insight into these questions. I’ll never know until I finish my POC. I can’t wait to share it with the #Filmstack community!