Why I’m putting my career on hold to make 365 films in 365 days
I’m fascinated by story.
One of my earliest memories is of a cardboard rocket ship my dad built in our living room. He stitched together 3 to 4 old boxes with duct tape. He cut a door and window.
I drew in the buttons and controls.
I don’t know how many hours I spent in that cardboard rocket ship. But even today — some 25 years later — I can recall exactly how it made me felt.
You see to me, it was a rocket ship. I’d imagine stories of me blasting out of this world and into another universe. I’d bring blankets and pillows into the rocket ship for those extra long journeys.
The collection of cardboard and duct tape was a vessel for my imagination.
In the years that followed, storytelling wasn’t seen as a practical career path. I found myself in the world of mathematics, physics, and engineering. Eventually, I landed a plush cubicle job with a 401(k) and casual Fridays.
But deep down, none of it made me happy. Nothing gave me the same feeling as that cardboard rocket ship.
So I gave it all up. I quit my career. I reinvented myself. And now I’m ready to start over doing the one thing that’s made me truly and deeply happy: telling stories.
Casey Neistat once said the only way to be a better storyteller is to tell more stories.
That’s why I’m making 365 films in 365 days.
Oh, and I’m pulling my toddler son out of daycare so we can do it together.