Tiny proof-of-life mirror selfie from the floor of my room/studio/softly collapsing production office, where the hoodie is comfy, the timeline is chaotic, and every piece of camera gear has somehow migrated into the open like it pays rent here.
It’s 11:04 on a Tuesday and I’m trying to convince myself this counts as “cozy productivity” and not “girl you have built a nest around your editing setup,” but honestly there’s something kind of sacred about the glow of Premiere at night, the little mess of cables, the half-charged batteries, the feeling that a film is slowly emerging from the fog frame by frame.
My brain is doing that insomnia thing where it refuses to power down, so I’m letting it be useful instead — trimming, color fussing, rewatching shots until they either become magic or completely lose all meaning.
Anyway, hi from the creative bunker 🌙🎥 if this project survives me, I think it might actually have a pulse.