For a long time I’ve been of the belief that the real meaning of anything can only be found if you put every way of experiencing it together into a single, unified concept, perceivable in a single, simple moment like looking at yourself in the mirror. That the thing’s impossible to do, that is, in the same way that seeing the whole world with one pair of eyes is, or occupying every space at once is, because no single one of us is god.

Rather, meaning’s a dynamic thing that only exists in dialogue, in the in-between space between people, and once that dialogue stops then of course all meaning ceases to exist. It’s this dialogue, then–vast, rambling, sometimes ecstatic and at other times terrifying–that unifies us, and that gives our experience substance. It unites us all in a great pantomime where we struggle to understand ourselves in the world around us, and the world around us in ourselves.

My work is my way of engaging with those myriad struggles, and making them more intelligible to both myself and others. Whether in film or in writing, in journalism or in fiction, my goal is to shine light on those in-between spaces by telling the stories that take place there, giving form and clarity to those essential experiences which are so often chaotic and uncertain. In the end, the goal is to arrive at the heart.