I write and direct stories that push people to their edge — emotionally, physically, psychologically.
Sometimes it’s a road trip that goes wrong.
Sometimes it’s a box that doesn’t open.
But it always starts with a question: what happens when everything you believe about yourself breaks?

I’m drawn to contradiction.
To silence and eruption.
To characters who don’t explain themselves — and scenes that don’t hold your hand.

I don’t stick to one tone or style.
I follow the emotional shape of the story.
I build worlds that are raw, visual, intimate, tense — sometimes surreal, sometimes still.
Each project moves differently.

What matters to me is precision.
Every frame. Every cut. Every breath between lines.
If it doesn’t feel necessary, it’s gone.

I don’t write for comfort.
I write to get closer to something I don’t fully understand.
And then I film it like it’s the only story I’ll get to tell.

I’m a filmmaker because I want to get closer to something that’s hard to name.
Maybe it’s emotion.
Maybe it’s memory.
Maybe it’s just one frame that says everything.