My knees still haven’t forgiven me. But stepping away from the constant demands of parenting, producing, and pushing through personal projects gave my brain something else to focus on—just putting one foot in front of the other.

We’re honored to share that our short documentary Suni’s Kidney Journey has won a Silver Telly Award in the General - Public Interest & Awareness category.

In the second episode of The Circles, we’re looking for snails. Big ones. Small ones. Teeny tiny ones that barely move but still leave a glistening trail behind.

There’s something about the road that sharpens your focus. Last week, Michael and I packed our gear and flew into Detroit for a production sprint that would take us from Michigan to Chicago and back again—with voiceovers in hotel rooms, sunrise filming by the lake, and some incredible conversations with people who trusted us with their stories.

Inspired by the tour diaries of ‘90s bands, this post is part reflection, part production journal, and part mixtape. Because what’s a road trip without music?

If you’re part of a communications team at a mid-sized nonprofit or institution, you’ve likely felt the pressure to generate more video, social, and donor content with limited time and resources. Here’s the truth: you don’t need to build a production house overnight. But you can build a content mindset—starting with your team.

You had high hopes. A compelling story to tell. A team ready to collaborate. But somewhere along the way, things fell apart—deadlines slipped, the message got muddled, and you were left managing expectations with your board or leadership.

Sound familiar?

There’s a special kind of victory that often goes uncelebrated:
Not awards.
Not recognition.
But the quiet, stubborn act of making something that didn’t exist before.

When organizations approach us about creating a short video or branded documentary, they often have a long list of hopes: They want to raise awareness, inspire donors, persuade decision-makers, explain a complex issue, and mobilize their base.

All with one video.

That instinct makes sense—budgets are tight, timelines are short, and stakeholders want to maximize impact. But here’s the hard truth: the most effective videos don’t try to do everything.

In the middle of a world that feels loud, fast, and uncertain, I started working on something small.

A short animation.

We call it The Circles, named after the small neighborhood in Santa Cruz where we live, tucked just a few blocks from the ocean. It’s a place where crows caw early in the morning, where neighbors’ cats dart through our yard, and where time, somehow, moves both slowly and quickly.

Before we start rolling—before interviews are scheduled, cameras are packed, or shots are framed—we ask questions.

There’s a quote I keep coming back to from Eddie Shleyner’s VeryGood Copy:

“Self-doubt is baked into creative work—and all you can do is anticipate the angst, embrace it when it comes, and convert it into good energy, something productive.”

If you’ve ever made something from scratch—be it a film, a pitch, a painting, or a product—you know the feeling. That nagging voice that whispers: Is this any good? What if this falls flat? Or worse: What if I’m not the right person to make this?

Think of your nonfiction work as an ongoing experiment. You begin with a hypothesis (your central idea), design a methodology (your research and narrative approach), and inevitably encounter unexpected results. Sometimes those results appear negative—the experiment "fails."

The most successful nonprofit organizations have discovered a critical balance: they craft authentic, emotion-driven narratives while strategically measuring impact through carefully selected metrics. This isn't just about counting likes or views—it's about understanding whether your stories are truly advancing your mission.

One of the most important — and often most difficult — questions to answer early in the development of a documentary is: What’s at stake?

So What Are Stakes in a Documentary?

A recent report from State of Create explores what’s happening across the creator economy—from artists and podcasters to filmmakers and writers—and outlines where things are heading. While it’s focused primarily on independent creators, there are powerful lessons here for organizations too: the future belongs to those who prioritize authenticity, emotional connection, and meaningful engagement over vanity metrics.

In 2025, budgets aren't just tight—they're constricting. I hear it in hushed conversations with producers, in worried emails from directors, in the nervous energy of nonprofit teams trying to do more with less. The financial landscape is challenging, and for many organizations, the dream of creating compelling video content feels like a luxury reserved for well-funded giants.

If you’re a filmmaker, writer, or creative of any kind, you’ve probably wrestled with this fear: Is my work original enough? It’s a question that can paralyze even the most talented artists. We spend so much time worrying about breaking new ground that we sometimes forget why audiences show up in the first place.

The smells of Spring normally trigger two feelings in my mind: a desire to retire anything with a Winter vibe, and a need to cling to a handful of songs that help with my seasonal transition.

One of the unexpected joys of reading with my daughter has been discovering which books truly capture her imagination. Some of our most treasured moments happen with books that aren't packed with words or elaborate plots. Instead, they're simple, emotional narratives—like when her eyes light up as the little chimp Bobo finally finds his mom for a big hug in Jez Alborough’s Hug, or how she turns very serious with concern when an octopus washes ashore in Alison Jay’s Out of the Blue.

In a world where stories have the power to shift perceptions, inspire action, and create lasting change, funding the right projects is more important than ever. Whether you're documenting the struggles of marginalized communities, shedding light on social injustices, or promoting solutions to critical issues, video storytelling can be one of the most effective tools in sparking momentum. But how do you secure funding for videos that aim to make an impact, especially when faced with political uncertainty and a climate of skepticism?