Instagram Story Save

Hot dog!! A real piece of cover art for my short screenplay, “Trial Separation” (designed and crafted by the inimitable @irl__succubus ), as well as an excuse to plop those laurels onto something. Pre-pro is officially ON, so get ready to *clock* some updates!!
(I derived nothing from that pun, save your boos)

Meet TRIAL SEPARATION’s very important and in-demand Talk Show Host 🎙️ played by the sensational Rigo Garay aka @rigormortisfilms

🎥 Rigo is a wonderful writer/actor/director based in NYC! He’s been brining indie cinema to the screen since 2015 at @glasseyepix and recently starred in @crumbcatchermovie!

We have just TWO days left to reach our green light goal on @seedandspark and still need YOUR help bringing this project to life! We are only 1% away from reaching the 80% needed to be able to use the funds we’ve already raised!

Remember, if you’re unable to contribute financially, following our project and spreading the word is incredibly helpful. 💌

ALSO, don’t forget —all contributions are tax deductible thanks to our partnership with @fromtheheartproductions

Head over to seedandspark.com/fund/trial-separation to contribute, follow, and learn more! 🎬

Introducing the incredible Jordan Chin who will be playing our ultra-dimensional, possibly infernal entity, THE CLOCK! 🐈‍⬛⏳😈

Jordan is a New York-based actor, singer, and artist that we’ve had the privilege to work with on a previous short, @brianwontwearcondoms!

Just a heads up! 🚨 We only have SIX days left to reach our green light goal on @seedandspark and unfortunately if we don’t reach this goal, then we will receive none of the funds that we have raised so far and will be ineligible to continue in the @goldhouseco 2026 AAPI Renaissance Rally.

We need YOUR help to bring our project to life! If you’re unable to contribute financially, following our project and spreading the word is incredibly helpful. 💌 Thank you to everyone who has helped us raise $5755 so far!

REMEMBER all contributions are tax deductible thanks to our partnership with @fromtheheartproductions

Head over to seedandspark.com/fund/trial-separation to contribute, follow, and learn more!

’TRIAL SEPARATION’ (2026) Toxic exes…with a Faustian twist. Dr. Paloma Foster is a star on the rise, a scientific luminary quickly gaining world recognition for her work in theoretical physics. When an old business associate comes out of the woodwork, however, the good doctor will discover public acclaim isn’t all that she bargained for.
Directed by Aimee Kuge, with performances by Kara Michelin (@shttywizardhrs), Jordan Chin (@feral.tiger), & Rigo Garay (@rigormortisfilms)

We are currently crowdfunding for this project on @seedandspark!
Please visit the link in our bio for more information on how to donate.

Any donation — big or small — will help us make this little movie a great success!
If you’re unable to donate, please follow our account as it helps the fundraising algorithm
~ ~ ~
Find out more by visiting our #seedandspark page ✨
** All US-based donations are 100% tax-deductible
thanks to our fiscal sponsor <3 **

’TRIAL SEPARATION’ (2026) Toxic exes…with a Faustian twist. Dr. Paloma Foster is a star on the rise, a scientific luminary quickly gaining world recognition for her work in theoretical physics. When an old business associate comes out of the woodwork, however, the good doctor will discover public acclaim isn’t all that she bargained for.
Directed by Aimee Kuge, with performances by Kara Michelin (@shttywizardhrs), Jordan Chin (@feral.tiger), & Rigo Garay (@rigormortisfilms)

We are currently crowdfunding for this project on @seedandspark!
Please visit the link in our bio for more information on how to donate.

Any donation — big or small — will help us make this little movie a great success!
If you’re unable to donate, please follow our account as it helps the fundraising algorithm
~ ~ ~
Find out more by visiting our #seedandspark page ✨
** All US-based donations are 100% tax-deductible
thanks to our fiscal sponsor <3 **

’TRIAL SEPARATION’ (2026) Toxic exes…with a Faustian twist. Dr. Paloma Foster is a star on the rise, a scientific luminary quickly gaining world recognition for her work in theoretical physics. When an old business associate comes out of the woodwork, however, the good doctor will discover public acclaim isn’t all that she bargained for.
Directed by Aimee Kuge, with performances by Kara Michelin (@shttywizardhrs), Jordan Chin (@feral.tiger), & Rigo Garay (@rigormortisfilms)

We are currently crowdfunding for this project on @seedandspark!
Please visit the link in our bio for more information on how to donate.

Any donation — big or small — will help us make this little movie a great success!
If you’re unable to donate, please follow our account as it helps the fundraising algorithm
~ ~ ~
Find out more by visiting our #seedandspark page ✨
** All US-based donations are 100% tax-deductible
thanks to our fiscal sponsor <3 **

This is no April fools day joke! TRIAL SEPARATION is officially live on @seedandspark 🐈‍⬛⏳😈

We are very proud to be participating in the @goldhouseco 2026 AAPI Renaissance Rally on #seedandspark

We need your help to bring our project to life! Head over to seedandspark.com/fund/trial-separation to learn more about our project!

Spread the word by sharing our project 💌 We have 27 days to reach our goal!

This is no April fools day joke! TRIAL SEPARATION is officially live on @seedandspark 🐈‍⬛⏳😈

We are very proud to be participating in the @goldhouseco 2026 AAPI Renaissance Rally on #seedandspark

We need your help to bring our project to life! Head over to seedandspark.com/fund/trial-separation to learn more about our project!

Spread the word by sharing our project 💌 We have 27 days to reach our goal!

time is ticking… we’ll be seeing you tomorrow 🐈‍⬛

~ 𝓣𝓲𝓬𝓴 𝓽𝓸𝓬𝓴, 𝓭𝓲𝓿𝓸𝓻𝓬𝓮 𝓸’𝓬𝓵𝓸𝓬𝓴 ~

Prepare for the ultra-dimensional…
.
.
.
.
#seedandspark #indie #shortfilms #fundraising #indiehorror

you still believe in me dot mp3

you still believe in me dot mp3

you still believe in me dot mp3

life CAN be good! (pic taken by @briii.man )

Winter Morning
BY JAMES CREWS
.
When I can no longer say thank you
for this new day and the waking into it,
for the cold scrape of the kitchen chair
and the ticking of the space heater glowing
orange as it warms the floor near my feet,
I know it’s because I’ve been fooled again
by the selfish, unruly man who lives in me
and believes he deserves only safety
and comfort. But if I pause as I do now,
and watch the streetlights outside flashing
off one by one like old men blinking their
cloudy eyes, if I listen to my tired neighbors
slamming car doors hard against the morning
and see the steaming coffee in their mugs
kissing chapped lips as they sip and
exhale each of their worries white into
the icy air around their faces—then I can
remember this one life is a gift each of us
was handed and told to open: Untie the bow
and tear off the paper, look inside
and be grateful for whatever you find
even if it is only the scent of a tangerine
that lingers on the fingers long after
you’ve finished peeling it.

Winter Morning
BY JAMES CREWS
.
When I can no longer say thank you
for this new day and the waking into it,
for the cold scrape of the kitchen chair
and the ticking of the space heater glowing
orange as it warms the floor near my feet,
I know it’s because I’ve been fooled again
by the selfish, unruly man who lives in me
and believes he deserves only safety
and comfort. But if I pause as I do now,
and watch the streetlights outside flashing
off one by one like old men blinking their
cloudy eyes, if I listen to my tired neighbors
slamming car doors hard against the morning
and see the steaming coffee in their mugs
kissing chapped lips as they sip and
exhale each of their worries white into
the icy air around their faces—then I can
remember this one life is a gift each of us
was handed and told to open: Untie the bow
and tear off the paper, look inside
and be grateful for whatever you find
even if it is only the scent of a tangerine
that lingers on the fingers long after
you’ve finished peeling it.

Winter Morning
BY JAMES CREWS
.
When I can no longer say thank you
for this new day and the waking into it,
for the cold scrape of the kitchen chair
and the ticking of the space heater glowing
orange as it warms the floor near my feet,
I know it’s because I’ve been fooled again
by the selfish, unruly man who lives in me
and believes he deserves only safety
and comfort. But if I pause as I do now,
and watch the streetlights outside flashing
off one by one like old men blinking their
cloudy eyes, if I listen to my tired neighbors
slamming car doors hard against the morning
and see the steaming coffee in their mugs
kissing chapped lips as they sip and
exhale each of their worries white into
the icy air around their faces—then I can
remember this one life is a gift each of us
was handed and told to open: Untie the bow
and tear off the paper, look inside
and be grateful for whatever you find
even if it is only the scent of a tangerine
that lingers on the fingers long after
you’ve finished peeling it.

Winter Morning
BY JAMES CREWS
.
When I can no longer say thank you
for this new day and the waking into it,
for the cold scrape of the kitchen chair
and the ticking of the space heater glowing
orange as it warms the floor near my feet,
I know it’s because I’ve been fooled again
by the selfish, unruly man who lives in me
and believes he deserves only safety
and comfort. But if I pause as I do now,
and watch the streetlights outside flashing
off one by one like old men blinking their
cloudy eyes, if I listen to my tired neighbors
slamming car doors hard against the morning
and see the steaming coffee in their mugs
kissing chapped lips as they sip and
exhale each of their worries white into
the icy air around their faces—then I can
remember this one life is a gift each of us
was handed and told to open: Untie the bow
and tear off the paper, look inside
and be grateful for whatever you find
even if it is only the scent of a tangerine
that lingers on the fingers long after
you’ve finished peeling it.

Winter Morning
BY JAMES CREWS
.
When I can no longer say thank you
for this new day and the waking into it,
for the cold scrape of the kitchen chair
and the ticking of the space heater glowing
orange as it warms the floor near my feet,
I know it’s because I’ve been fooled again
by the selfish, unruly man who lives in me
and believes he deserves only safety
and comfort. But if I pause as I do now,
and watch the streetlights outside flashing
off one by one like old men blinking their
cloudy eyes, if I listen to my tired neighbors
slamming car doors hard against the morning
and see the steaming coffee in their mugs
kissing chapped lips as they sip and
exhale each of their worries white into
the icy air around their faces—then I can
remember this one life is a gift each of us
was handed and told to open: Untie the bow
and tear off the paper, look inside
and be grateful for whatever you find
even if it is only the scent of a tangerine
that lingers on the fingers long after
you’ve finished peeling it.

Winter Morning
BY JAMES CREWS
.
When I can no longer say thank you
for this new day and the waking into it,
for the cold scrape of the kitchen chair
and the ticking of the space heater glowing
orange as it warms the floor near my feet,
I know it’s because I’ve been fooled again
by the selfish, unruly man who lives in me
and believes he deserves only safety
and comfort. But if I pause as I do now,
and watch the streetlights outside flashing
off one by one like old men blinking their
cloudy eyes, if I listen to my tired neighbors
slamming car doors hard against the morning
and see the steaming coffee in their mugs
kissing chapped lips as they sip and
exhale each of their worries white into
the icy air around their faces—then I can
remember this one life is a gift each of us
was handed and told to open: Untie the bow
and tear off the paper, look inside
and be grateful for whatever you find
even if it is only the scent of a tangerine
that lingers on the fingers long after
you’ve finished peeling it.

Winter Morning
BY JAMES CREWS
.
When I can no longer say thank you
for this new day and the waking into it,
for the cold scrape of the kitchen chair
and the ticking of the space heater glowing
orange as it warms the floor near my feet,
I know it’s because I’ve been fooled again
by the selfish, unruly man who lives in me
and believes he deserves only safety
and comfort. But if I pause as I do now,
and watch the streetlights outside flashing
off one by one like old men blinking their
cloudy eyes, if I listen to my tired neighbors
slamming car doors hard against the morning
and see the steaming coffee in their mugs
kissing chapped lips as they sip and
exhale each of their worries white into
the icy air around their faces—then I can
remember this one life is a gift each of us
was handed and told to open: Untie the bow
and tear off the paper, look inside
and be grateful for whatever you find
even if it is only the scent of a tangerine
that lingers on the fingers long after
you’ve finished peeling it.

Winter Morning
BY JAMES CREWS
.
When I can no longer say thank you
for this new day and the waking into it,
for the cold scrape of the kitchen chair
and the ticking of the space heater glowing
orange as it warms the floor near my feet,
I know it’s because I’ve been fooled again
by the selfish, unruly man who lives in me
and believes he deserves only safety
and comfort. But if I pause as I do now,
and watch the streetlights outside flashing
off one by one like old men blinking their
cloudy eyes, if I listen to my tired neighbors
slamming car doors hard against the morning
and see the steaming coffee in their mugs
kissing chapped lips as they sip and
exhale each of their worries white into
the icy air around their faces—then I can
remember this one life is a gift each of us
was handed and told to open: Untie the bow
and tear off the paper, look inside
and be grateful for whatever you find
even if it is only the scent of a tangerine
that lingers on the fingers long after
you’ve finished peeling it.

Winter Morning
BY JAMES CREWS
.
When I can no longer say thank you
for this new day and the waking into it,
for the cold scrape of the kitchen chair
and the ticking of the space heater glowing
orange as it warms the floor near my feet,
I know it’s because I’ve been fooled again
by the selfish, unruly man who lives in me
and believes he deserves only safety
and comfort. But if I pause as I do now,
and watch the streetlights outside flashing
off one by one like old men blinking their
cloudy eyes, if I listen to my tired neighbors
slamming car doors hard against the morning
and see the steaming coffee in their mugs
kissing chapped lips as they sip and
exhale each of their worries white into
the icy air around their faces—then I can
remember this one life is a gift each of us
was handed and told to open: Untie the bow
and tear off the paper, look inside
and be grateful for whatever you find
even if it is only the scent of a tangerine
that lingers on the fingers long after
you’ve finished peeling it.