I’m always looking for external validation from my heroes to know if I or my work are good enough. It makes my life feel fulfilling, but I get depressed without it. How do I deal with this? – Roel

I think when you grow older, you start to see that the people you look up to are just as human as you are. Same flaws, same doubts, same noise in their heads. And when that hits, something shifts. You stop chasing their eyes, and you start looking inward instead.

I crave validation too. It’s inherently human. And when I don’t get it, I fall back into doubt. Secretly, I’ve tried to fix a lot of my old work over the years. New grades, new edits, replacing the old versions. I thought I could fix them, trying to be better.

But after ten years of filmmaking, I realised there is no better.

Apart from the technical side of things, the work really is just a reflection of who you were in that moment. Frozen in time. And in that light it’s perfect for what it was, because it represents that. The weight falls off, acceptance grows.

And the validation? Yeah, for me that will never go away. I won’t get it. Not from my heroes. Not from my work. Because it’s part of the work, part of wanting to be seen.

Because there’s nothing worse than pouring so much time and love into something, only to realize no one will ever see it.

So try to find peace in the making, not in the reaction.
Because when the noise fades and the lights go out, the work stays.
Not just for today, but forever.

I'm passionate about sharing my work. Yet, I'm really afraid to actually go for it. I've been studying film for two years now, but I often feel like I won't make it. How should I deal with it? - Rik

I guess… if you take a deep look within, you’ll feel whether it’s something you truly want to do or not.

There was a moment, a while ago, when I never wanted to direct again. But it stayed on my mind. Annoyingly. Drilling into my skull while I was watching other films.

And film is big, chaotic, and beautiful, with many spots to fill. It’s not about climbing to the top, but about finding what makes you want to get out of bed in the morning. I’ve seen directors turn into editors, editors become musicians, musicians turn into directors. In the end, it doesn’t matter. Nothing really does.

Just find something that makes you feel something.
And when you get bored, remember, life is too long to spend doing things that leave you feeling nothing.
It’s never too late to destroy everything and start all over again.

If it’s truly what you want to do, you’ll do it anyway.

Not because you want to.
Not because of your studies or your love for film.
Not because one day you made up this self-made dream.

But simply… because you can’t help yourself.

how long have you been interested in filmmaking and writing and what kickstarted your interest? - allie

My mom did a television program somewhere around 2005. It was a show where children had to find a new boyfriend for their mom. A silly concept. But their, for the first time, I saw a director working his magic behind the scenes. Directing us, our reality, into something sensational.

I was so obsessed with the process that I became an annoying presence for the crew, always trying to look into the camera, screaming attention. It was spellbinding to see how reality television was made, how non-fiction became fiction. The power of the camera, and the illusion of tension you can create with just the right words and placement of the camera.

That was my first awareness.

My second came not long after, also connected to my mom, this time through her new incredible kind boyfriend. He was a Persian political rufugee, studying law, and he brought home these burned DVDs filled with the most amazing films.

I was eleven at the time when I first watched The Pianist, The Lord of the Rings, Sin City and The Matrix. I can still remember the exact time of day and the place where I saw each of them. They changed me.

For the first time, I became aware of the author, the invisible hand behind the image. I could feel the director’s presence in every choice.  And then there was the escapism, these worlds that completely absorbed me. I dreamed about them at night, obsessed over them in the day.

Those two moments, one in front of the camera and one behind it, became a turning point.

That’s when the dream(ing) began.

How do you keep believing in the creative work you do when life within it is so uncertain? And everyone around you chooses certainty? - The doubter

I guess certainty makes me feel deeply uncertain.

When I can predict tomorrow, the future, my own path… that’s when I start to feel less, like I’m slowly fading away. The prediction makes me feel like I’m not living my own life, the automation of movement numbs my senses. I’m living for the sole purpose of living. A machine, unaware of when I wake up, or if I ever really do.

I like to drift inside the quiet mystery of not knowing.

Because if there’s one thing that’s certain,
it’s that nothing ever is,
and we never really know anything at all.

How do you look back on your early YouTube videos on your personal channel, such as Daydreaming, Levensvragen and Cum Laude - Tom

It’s weird. It’s awkward.
But I kind of love the idea that my growing up is on the internet.

I made my first video when I was twelve and from that moment on I never really stopped.
From middle to high school, from my first paid job to my first independent home, I filmed everything and everyone. Those moments and people still hold a special place in my heart.

I like the idea that these low res mp4 files still float somewhere on a Google server, buried under layers of code and dust. It’s a digital reflection of the time, of who I was, the environment I lived in and the things I found interesting. There’s a certain truth to them that I both like and find deeply discomforting.
But I guess that’s what growing up is.

I’ll never take them offline.
I accept the shame.

Stadskanaal (2006)

how did you find work in directing? i’m a starting film director, currently 21. directed one short. it’s absolutely my passion, but unsure if i can find any projects after I graduate. - Wesley

Directing isn’t a job for me. It’s my life’s work.

I haven’t made any money from directing, because I care too much about everything I put my name on.

I always end up putting my own money in, just to make it a tiny bit better. But yes, it’s a struggle. The last ten years were all investment. Most of my income comes from editing, TV shows, trailers, documentaries. It’s anonymous, not my own and it’s a great exercise too.

But…sometimes I wish that I wasn’t to stubborn and that I could direct anything.

Unfortunately, the truth is, if I don’t feel the message, the story, the execution, deep in my bones, then I feel nothing for it at all.
I’ve lost many pitches because of that. And that’s okay. I’m patient. I’ll keep working until my dream becomes real.

Film, to me, is the most beautiful and pure form of expression out there. It’s tough as nails, and there’s a strange beauty in how all these different skillsets, all these departments, come together to build something bigger than you. I love researching things I know nothing about.

Finding myself in places I’d never imagined entering in my everyday life. It changed how I see the fabric on the walls in my own house, the details and color of clothes that people wear, the way someone argues over a bill or the sound of a screeching metro at night.

It made me aware of the world, and how I want to capture it in a crafted, controlled way, the same way some of my favorite directors do.

Film, quite literally, saved my life. It helped me escape.

So don’t expect to find work as a director anytime soon.
And enjoy every moment of the suffering along the way.

How do you structure the process of making music and songwriting? do you need inspiration immediately or does it come to you by itself? - Scarlet

I think I started writing actual music somewhere in 2017. I had the need to tell a story with my actual voice. I don’t know why. There’s this artist, Daniel Johnston, who did the same, and it sounded so fragile and real and beautiful. His music really helped me get over the shame and embrace the ugliness of my own voice.

My good friend Teun helped me with my first music project. He was super open-minded and gave me a good feeling, about myself, about the music. I think you really need that trust when you work with someone. You always hear it back in the music. I’m so proud of Teun and the journey he’s on right now.

I don’t really have a structure, but I make a clear separation between lyrics and melodies. When I think of a melody, I’ll hum it on my voice recorder app. And the lyrics… well, I basically write every day. Sometimes small sentences, sometimes long stories. I try to organize them in my notes app. And when I’m in the studio, I look back at all the different notes and try to stitch things together. It’s like making a cutout newspaper, kind of a backwards process, but I enjoy it.

i want to make a short film but i suck at writing. i have the whole movie in my head but i cant get it down on paper. do you have any tips? - Thimo

I only started writing about five years ago, so it still feels new and not very natural to me. There are so many great people who can tell you how to write, and so many many scripts to read. Honestly, that’s the best way to learn. For me, I never start to write the actual screenplay before having a concept, a poster, a beat sheet and doing some research. But always give yourself:

A big restraint. Because a blank page can look fucking terrifying. For me, the best restraint is always the theme. What do I actually want to say? It limits the endless possibilities and makes that big empty page feel less intimidating.

The post-its. There’s this great quote from Lynch: “If you want to make a feature film, get ideas for 70 scenes. Put them on 3-by-5 cards. As soon as you have 70, you have a feature film.” And it’s sounds so simple but it’s really true.

Fun shit. This one sounds dumb, but it matters. Write down the fun shit. What you want to see or try out, the scenes that make you laugh, cry or feel ashamed. The weird goofy stuff. In the end they are really really important. Because filmmaking is a long and tedious process and these scenes will motivate you every step of the way. They are the spirit of the film. They are you.

Music. The tone is really important when writing (and directing) and… I cannot write without music. I’m constantly adding new tunes to the film’s playlist, that fit the general mood of the story / characters.

The poster. This one’s personal, but I always start with a poster before I write. The pure essence of the film captured in one image. Then I print it and hang it above my desk. That poster keeps me motivated to turn the idea into reality.

Anyway, those are a few things that work for me. But it really helps to read something from one of the greats. And I recommend writing the ugly bare-bones version first, before you try to make it look like a proper cool screenplay.

Posters above my desk (2022)

Do you like your job? - Benny

I like to work, but I don’t like to work when work feels like working and it keeps reminding you of the little bit of loose change you get back from it and the time you can never buy back from it.

But… actually I’m a workaholic.