A Public Journal Entry About Uncertainty
It’s 12:30am, a couple hours past my normal bedtime…
I’ve had a big week of skiing, hiking and exploring around Boulder with Ben from the Goat Surf Club visiting.
The week before he came, I was having an identity crisis a bit. The freelance nature of my work was beginning to catch up to me. I hadn’t shot anything since October, and despite a few small editing projects for Reel Rock and couple bike films that needed to get finished in the editing process, I’m feeling like I have a blank slate on my work. I can do anything this year, so what do I want to do?
The poster for a film I created last summer about veterans using nature as a tool for recovery
This happens every winter, my slowest time of the year. In this time, there’s never a clear understanding of what works and what doesn’t.
I made four films that are touring film festivals right now and have gotten into some of the biggest outdoor film festivals around the world - but, has that made any difference in my ability to get jobs? Am I any more or less “successful” because of that? Does that move my career forward or is it just something that was a fun side quest while just trying to continue to level up my business?
Social Media Reflections
For years, I’ve felt guilty about not having a YouTube or social media presence. I have never really enjoyed it but I have the knowledge and skills to make it a profitable side hustle if I devote enough time. So, for the past two months, I’ve been trying to post more YouTube shorts and it’s been working.
I’ve more than doubled my number of subscribers on YouTube from 700 to over 1,500. I have a few shorts that have passed the 100,000 views mark and a number of others approaching the 20,000 view milestone. During this experiment, I’ve learned a lot about the process of making short form videos. But, the comments are pretty negative and the process of filming and editing all this feels pretty lonely… and empty. Making a funny 30 second video about skiing doesn’t get me stoked in the same way my other films and documentaries do. It’s putting me in front of an audience, but maybe not the audience I want.
It’s not connecting me to athletes or brands or any of the pre-existing ways I earned a living in 2023 nor is really teaching me much anymore about how to make better documentaries. Sure, I’m shooting and editing more but it’s quick and low quality so I’m not using the same criteria to judge my work since the format seems to reward slightly less produced videos.
During this YouTube experiment, I’ve spend the past week reflecting on all these bigger career questions and trying to decipher who I am in relation to my work. Then, tonight, I attended the reel rock premiere - in which I played a small role coloring and editing the welcome video - and discovered that real change doesn’t happen from YouTube videos.
Real change can occur in stories that last.
I want to make documentaries that stand the test of time. I want tell stories that matter, like what Reel Rock created in Ukraine. I’ve experienced that sense of impact in a few of my favorite projects and it’s a feeling that I want to keep chasing - providing positive impact through storytelling. I’m not contributing to the “noise” of content creation but putting my time towards something that everyone wants. This week I’ve getting more requests from brands for my authentic storytelling style (not because of YouTube but because of prior projects and connections) and, rather than wasting time on YouTube, I think I need to be devoting time towards the types of experiences I’ve loved.
I’ve climbed with tree climbers in Costa Rica, backpacked across sand dunes with veterans from around the world, ran alongside Olympians, presented on stages in front of hundreds of people, scouted new lines in Colorado with professional skiers and completed epic mountain traverses with professional bikers.
Those are highlights, of course, but it’s allowing myself to see my career a bit clearer. I may not have an audience of thousands watching my every video but I get to make real world connections with people whose stories I get to share.
This is a bit of a public place to share this stream of consciousness journal but, in addition to some of the work you’ve seen me create, I want to give you a glimpse of the thought processes I go through when I’m in brainstorming the direction I want to take my career. I’ve declined more projects than I’ve accepted this year and, in that process, it’s forced me to ask some of these bigger questions.
So, looking ahead, I’m sure you’ll continue to see me try some things that work but just know there are lots of lessons I’m learning along the way. If I were to sum up this slower period for me, I’d say the biggest lesson I learned was that showing up, everyday, just like I’ve been doing regardless of getting paid or not, will teach me something. Growth isn’t always linear, and in the past few months, I feel like I haven’t been making my best work - which feels especially strange given that those videos that I don’t feel like are my best work, are getting more views than any of my other projects.
As this journal entry comes to an end, I’m feeling more convicted in how to spend my time when I’m not directly getting hired. Because, whatever I’ve been doing so far, has been working pretty well and given me a joyful, active, and balanced life - something I wouldn’t want to change. So if being a bit unsure on where the money is coming from next, it’s okay. Just keep working diligently on what’s been working in the business and continue to follow that path.
To conclude, I think I’m happiest when I’m creating stories about others, not myself.
Let’s Connect
Roo is a commercial/documentary filmmaker and photographer based in Boulder, Colorado but travels all around the world for his filmmaking career. He has directed documentaries for Patagonia in California, produced films for Outside Magazine throughout Europe and Africa, camera operated for Netflix in the Rocky Mountain West, photographed among indigenous communities in South America, and has received notable recognition in his hometown of Orcas Island in Washington State for his work telling uplifting stories in the outdoor space.