After a sudden, life-threatening illness forces him to step away from a career in firefighting, Zach Le is confronted with the fragility of his body and the loss of the future he once imagined. What begins as a period of uncertainty and grief becomes a turning point when he returns to painting. Initially as a way to process loss that eventually lead to a new source of purpose.

The film traces Zach’s evolution from adrenaline driven work to a quieter, more introspective life as a representational artist. As he currently builds a studio in Malibu and continues to navigate ongoing health challenges, his paintings become a way to make sense of instability, identity, and control. Through intimate verité moments and poetic visuals, You Might Not explores mortality, resilience, and the urgency to live with intention, asking how we redefine ourselves when life forces us onto an unexpected path.

“Made in Italy” is a portrait of chef Antonio Sessa — a man whose life is steeped in the flavors, stories, and traditions of his homeland. Through his restaurant, also called Made in Italy, Antonio has created more than a place to eat: he has built a bridge between cultures, a space where family, memory, and identity are served daily.

Antonio immigrated to the United States knowing no English but driven by a passion for discovery. Like many others, he faced the cultural and linguistic challenges that come with leaving not only one’s country, but one’s family behind.

The documentary moves between his world in the kitchen and his world at home, capturing intimate moments with his wife and parents as they reflect on the tension between preserving one’s roots and learning to grow new ones — and on the risks of culinary innovation while honoring the foundations of an Italian trattoria.

At its heart, “Made in Italy” is about how food becomes a language — one that speaks of love, resilience, and the stories we carry with us wherever we go.

After discovering a group of digitized film footage my grandfather shot in the 1960s and 70s, I set out to organize and edit it for my family’s future viewing. At first, the goal was purely practical, trimming long stretches of black and arranging the footage by location.

That changed when I took a sound design class in the fall of 2025. I began experimenting with adding sound to this otherwise silent footage, using audio to bring each moment and environment to life. What started as a technical exercise slowly became a deeply personal project, one that documents fleeting “snapshots” of my grandfather’s life, a version of him and his world I never got to experience firsthand due to his passing three years before I was born in 2001.

The final piece is made up of several scenes that offer brief glimpses into the time he lived in. Through watching and editing this footage, I felt a connection to my grandfather I had never known before, seeing the world as he saw it. His sense of awe and curiosity reflects a mirror for my own filmmaking and photography journey, approaching the world with the same attention, wonder, and care that I strive for.

Growing up in Oklahoma, I was always surrounded by farmers and witnessed firsthand the crucial role they play in feeding millions of people. My grandparents were from a small town in northwestern Oklahoma called Alva, and my sister, cousins, and I spent much of our summers and holidays there. Just a few miles outside of town, my family owns a small piece of land that has been passed down since my great-great-grandparents immigrated from Denmark.

This past summer, I wanted to expand my passion for documentary storytelling beyond photography and into filmmaking. As I began searching for stories that needed to be told, I kept thinking back to the small-town farmers in Alva and specifically, the Brady family. They're not a large operation with dozens of workers but rather close-knit family who have been harvesting wheat in Alva for generations.

I felt their story was one that’s often overlooked. It's a story that's quiet, humble, but deeply meaningful. After speaking with them, I drove up there and spent a week documenting their lives right as the wheat was ready to harvest. Through that experience, I gained a deeper understanding of both the struggles and rewards of being a small-town wheat farmer in today’s world. Their story became the heart of this mini-documentary I created, one that I hope gives a voice to people who are rarely in the spotlight but whose work feeds the world.

The City of Sunlight Splendor

Athens, Greece



"There is no beauty but the beauty of action..."

Morocco