The thing is that nobody’s waiting outside your door with million-dollar contracts. You don’t have a studio sending you trucks full of equipment. Most of the time, it’s just you, your stubborn obsession with stories, and whatever camera you can afford. And that’s enough — if you don’t stop.
Where You’re From Doesn’t Matter

One of the most dangerous lies filmmakers tell themselves is: “If only I lived in Los Angeles… if only I had connections… if only I’d gone to film school.” None of that matters.
I didn’t grow up in Hollywood. I didn’t have a famous last name. I didn’t even have the kind of safety net that lets you “try things out.” I had to leave home, chase it on my own terms, and learn the hard way.
What matters is persistence. If you want to dive deeper into how I went from nobody to making films full-time, check out these posts:
- Film By Film: My Road to Full-Time Director
- From Leaving Home for Hollywood to Becoming a Cinematographer (and Why I Chose Directing Instead)
Where you’re from is your starting point, not your prison. Don’t make geography your excuse.
Mindset Is Everything

Most people fail not because they aren’t talented but because they stop. They hit a wall — the money runs out, the feedback isn’t great, the film doesn’t look how they imagined — and they give up.
The difference between a hobbyist and a filmmaker is that the filmmaker keeps going. Even when it’s ugly. Even when nobody’s watching.
I’ve played leads in my own films. Not because I thought I was some great actor, but because the film had to get made, and there was no one else to do it. When I played the lead in Spooked, it wasn’t about ego — it was about survival.
Want to see more on that? Read these:
Directing is a mindset. You either keep going, or you stop being a director.
You Don’t Need Money To Learn
Money is nice. Money lets you have more options. But money isn’t required. If you’re waiting for a budget, you’ll never make anything.
The original Outsiders was shot in one day in a forest, with around $200. Did it have flaws? Of course. Did it teach me more about directing, storytelling, and problem-solving than any class could? Absolutely.
Read the full story here:
Every time you shoot, you’re building muscle. And like muscle, it only grows under resistance. No budget? Good. That resistance will make you sharper.
Gear Doesn’t Matter As Much As You Think

This is the biggest trap indie filmmakers fall into: obsessing over gear. I’ve shot eight feature films on a Canon C100 — the original one, twelve years old, picked up on eBay for $500.
Not the Mark II. Not a RED. Not an ARRI Alexa. A beat-up old Canon.
And guess what? It worked. Because at the end of the day, audiences don’t care what camera you used. They care if the story moves them.
Yes, quality matters — your sound should be clean, your picture should be watchable. But filmmaking isn’t about technical perfection. It’s about emotional connection. Nobody ever walked out of a cinema saying, “The dynamic range ruined it for me.” They say, “That story hit me.”
Stop obsessing. Use what you have. Shoot.
Find Your Style By Shooting

You don’t figure out your style by thinking about it. You figure it out by doing. By shooting again and again, under different conditions, with different limitations.
Set deadlines. Force yourself to finish. That’s the difference between amateurs and pros. Pros finish, even if the film isn’t perfect. Especially if it isn’t perfect.
If you don’t have a crew, shoot alone. If you can’t shoot a feature, shoot a short. If you can’t shoot a short, shoot a scene. But shoot. Because every time you complete something, you sharpen your instincts and bring yourself one step closer to your voice.
Why Quality Both Matters and Doesn’t
Let me be clear: quality does matter. Nobody wants to watch a film that looks and sounds like it was shot on a broken phone with no thought behind it. You need to deliver something people can actually watch.
But beyond a certain point, chasing “perfect quality” is a trap. I’ve seen filmmakers paralyzed because they’re saving up for the perfect lens set, or waiting to rent the exact light kit they saw on YouTube. While they’re waiting, someone else is out there making films with less — and getting better.
The truth? A watchable film that exists is worth more than a perfect film that never gets made.
Keep Going
This is the hardest and simplest truth: nobody will keep you going but you. There’s no secret trick, no motivational quote that will suddenly make it easy. You’ll face rejection. You’ll watch films flop. You’ll wonder if you’re wasting your life.
And then you’ll pick up your camera again.
That’s the real test. Not whether you make a masterpiece, not whether you get into Sundance, but whether you keep showing up. Because the moment you stop, you’re no longer a director.
I’ve made eight features. None of them were perfect. Some were barely noticed. But each one made me sharper, tougher, more myself. And I’ll keep making them, because that’s what being an indie director means: you don’t stop.
Final Word
If you want to survive as an indie director, here it is in one line: keep shooting. Doesn’t matter where you’re from. Doesn’t matter what gear you have. Doesn’t matter how much money you don’t have. Just shoot. Learn. Improve. Repeat.
Because if you keep going long enough, the one thing you’ll realize is this: the people who make it aren’t the ones with the best cameras, or the biggest budgets. They’re the ones who didn’t quit.
If you’re serious about making films now, not someday, you need The Original Guide to Making a Movie for Under $5,000. It’s not theory or hype—it’s a hands-on roadmap, distilled from real films I’ve made under extreme constraints. From script to screen, I walk you through exactly how to stretch every pound and minute without compromising your story. I made this guide because I don’t want you waiting for a “right moment” or “enough money” — I want you shooting today. Grab it, read it, apply it, and stop letting budget be your excuse.