As you may know by now, I am a Writer and Filmmaker. I created this site as a means of merging my blog ( The Furious Romantic Return s ) with a more “official” site for sharing my work.
We even gave them popcorn.
I used to write about what makes me mad. Now I write about how and why it’s better to take the anger we might (understandably) feel (about any of a number of things) and aim it towards more productive ends. So now I write about life and art (and making art). I post at least two or three times per month. My hope is that, in doing this, I can contribute to an ongoing, wide-ranging discussion on the importance of self-actualization and expression while I continue to make films and write things.
Once per month, I send an email update listing the top posts for the previous month. Sometimes, in that email, I include news about other projects.
I am based in New York City but grew up in Cranston, RI. I am married with two kids who aren’t kids at all (really just a dog and a cat ).
I have directed four films ( a feature , two shorts, and a featurette), helped produce a fifth (another short), and have several feature-length screenplays and one TV pilot in development. My work has appeared mostly on my desk and in my head and, occasionally, on a big screen in front of nice people. Feel free to watch my most recent short: Multiverse .
I know we don’t know each other but if you have read this far I already like you.
Most writing comes from a single, quiet realization: that life and art share more ground than we tend to admit. Both are slow processes of paying attention, of returning again and again to the same questions until something honest emerges. A script, like a week, asks for patience. A scene, like a hard conversation, asks for the willingness to stay in the room. The challenge for any creative person is to treat the small moments — a conversation with friends, a long walk, the space between drafts — as material rather than distraction. When you start to write from that grounded place, the work begins to feel less like a performance and more like a practice, and the practice itself becomes a kind of answer to the bigger questions.