I think the projects that worked out the best in my personal experience were the ones where I kind of had no clue what I was doing, and so I sort of floated through the process and really went with what my gut suggested. It was an unadulterated time in making things, and I had just gotten settled in Toronto and just started to meet very talented young people who were giving me the time of day. 

It was the first time I addressed myself being a director and truly had such a remarkable crew and collection of support and talent that it really was the springboard for many future relationships, opportunities and so on. 

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It hadn't occurred to me at the time that many of the people who agreed to help me on the project were so seasoned and very much pros of their line of work - I only discovered this much later. People like Paul Skinner has made films like Code 8 just before, and were now taking the patient and very hands-on approach to working with me in the editing room. I never once felt like I didn't know what I was doing, because everyone gave me so much credit. It was a treat. I look back often now at this film in complete fondness, as it still rings true and gives me that sense of comfort that what I had set out to do (tell a relatively simple story about a girl in a house who was kinda sad and kinda neurotic and kinda mad) ended up exactly how we wished it would. 

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I will say that this was also my first entry into festivals. Just as I had received a couple of nice reviews and acceptances, I also received many rejections, of which one of my favourites included a written review (which i paid for) from some guy who sent me something along the lines of "what at first appears beautiful and deep is in fact, quite shallow and just looks good." 

I'll take it. (I mean, ouch, and I think you're a jackass, and how can I have your job, Sir?!) but I'll take it!