After my husband left me, I spent the summer rediscovering who I was. I spent a month traveling with my mom, a bit of a “consolation prize” for my failed marriage. That fall, when I returned to UNCSA as a Third-year student, word of my divorce spread. I received a hearty “Congratulations!” from a classmate and a warm hug from my professor (and J’s mentor), Bob. I had a difficult time managing my chronic pain that fall, but I was determined to find success. Blah, blah, mind over matter, or something like that. At least, that's what I kept telling myself.

When I joined Sodium Vapor Nights as Art Director, I knew I was stepping into a new level of complexity. The sets were intricate, spanning from an abandoned warehouse to a well-furnished high-end home, each with unique demands. The budget allowed for a more elaborate build, a “kill room” with realistic special effects– a task that required a squib, some precision, and a fair amount of fake blood. It was the most ambitious project I’d been part of thus far, and I was ready to get to work. 

Without J, I was free to forge my connections, and the first-year students who joined the crew quickly became essential allies. Together, we transformed each space into a scene that reflected the film’s eerie tone, and with each new step, my confidence grew. I was used to relying on J for professional support, but this was the first time I felt entirely capable, directing others with assurance and receiving genuine respect from the team.

This film pushed me to take ownership of my abilities and lead independently. The sets came together beautifully, and the project was a success. When I look back at everything we accomplished, I realize that I had stepped into a new level of responsibility, one that acknowledged my capability without deferring to J. This shaped the projects I took on in the years to come.