Now is Now

An overdue update and long-awaited homecoming.

Love at Sea (Guy Gilles, 1965)

2024 was a year. Whenever someone asks me about it, I describe it as the best year of my professional life — and simultaneously, the worst. It felt like being trapped in a perpetual maelstrom, spinning infinitely with no reprieve in sight. Endless workdays piled on, a relentless churn designed to drown me.

I almost walked away from all of this.

In 2024, I mourned more than I ever thought possible. I mourned two years of hard work in the online space and its sudden evaporation — not just the income but the passion and community it represented. I mourned stepping back from projects I’d poured every ounce of myself into, and most painfully, I mourned the loss of the person I used to be: naive, hopeful, steadfast in the belief that “reward” inevitably (or, better yet, rapidly) follows effort for those who keep showing up.

And that’s not even touching on the personal shitstorm I weathered outside of my professional life, though I’ll save you from that particular chaos today.

Here’s the truth I uncovered: the “work to immediate reward” equation I had clung to doesn’t always work out. When you hit rock bottom, when you’re starting again at ground zero, you’re forced to confront what truly matters.

Is the thing you’ve been fighting for really worth the sacrifice?

Late Spring (Yasujiro Ozu, 1949)

By the bitter, hazy end of 2024, I had my answer. After months of grief, reflection, and, yes, a hefty dose of therapy, I knew I couldn’t walk away from it all. The simple, unshakable truth is this: my greatest joy comes from celebrating forgotten films and timeless classics and sharing them with others. To beam at a screen and see the legacies of cinema alive and thriving is to feel a rare kind of magic. I couldn’t stand the idea of letting an algorithm or fleeting public opinion dictate what I wanted to share.

So, here we are. I’m reclaiming my voice, carving out this space on the internet as my creative sanctuary. No metrics, no chasing trends — just me, doing things the way I’ve always wanted to: with passion, honesty, and through my own words.

Through Rewind & Revive, I’ll bring you the stories, musings, and reflections that light up my own cinematic journey. You’ll still find podcast episodes here, though on a more relaxed schedule, free from the grasp of “success” I had measured by numbers. This space is about something else entirely: rediscovering why I fell in love with cinema in the first place. A rebirth.

If you’ve followed along on my journey so far, thank you. Thank you for every bit of support, every conversation, both online and off. They’ve carried me through. This time, I’m determined to get it right, though perhaps “right” is less of a destination and more of a mindset.

As Koji Yakusho’s character in Wim Wenders’ Perfect Days so wisely says, “Next time is next time. Now is now.”

This is where timeless cinema thrives, untouched by the need for compromise. This is a homecoming, and I’d love for you to join me in this new chapter.

Welcome to Rewind & Revive.