I make time to watch the Oscars. It’s been a kind of ritual all my life. I’ve been watching this yearly awards show since the early 80s. My love of cinema is the root of my art. My tastes have expanded but it’s still the love of movies that keep me going. Yeah, I talk back to the screen a lot during the show. It stirs up a lot of emotion because on some level I can relate.

Also, watching the show is the only way I can see the work of Chuck Workman, the genius behind the Oscar montages. His virtuosity in the editing of movie clips that look back at who died in the past year or sum up cinematic achievement in just a few minutes is the show, for me.

This year, I know someone who is involved with a film that is up for an Academy Award for Short Documentary so I have a personal interest in seeing who wins.

Then, I am rocked by what comedian Louis C.K. has to say about filmmakers in the Short Documentary category before he announces the winner.

Days later, I’m still thinking about what he said. He said that this category is his favourite because the award would mean something to the winner.

“This is the best documentary short,” he said. “It’s not even a documentary feature. These people will never be rich as long as they live. This is going to be the nicest thing they’ll ever own in their life. All they got is this Oscar going home in a Honda Civic. It’s gonna give them anxiety keeping it in their crappy apartment.”

What Louis C.K said probably would not have stung as much as it did if I didn’t actually own a Honda Civic. Yes. I guess, I’d have to concede that I probably won’t be making millions of dollars with Birthmark but I suddenly realized that I don’t want to believe that I’ll never be rich for as long as I live.

It was an epic comic slap in the face with the truth. It was like he said, “And the loser is…” Yeah, a steady income would allow me to feel like I’m on the right path. It’s always a struggle to make ends meet. When will I decide to give up this struggle for a new one? I want to figure this out. I’m feeling vulnerable about all of this right now while I’m in editing mode.

Louis C.K.’s words has given me pause to re-evaluate what I am doing with my life. It felt like I became the laughing stock of the world in that moment. And apparently, this hit a collective nerve. Shortly after the awards, Britdoc released picture of a Honda Civic on Twitter with the words: “in solidarity with documentary filmmakers” and a new hashtag: #GoingHomeInAHondaCivic.

CBC’s The Current joined the conversation with an interview with former CBC executive Mark Starowicz on “the decline of documentary production in Canada as interest rises” in which the host Anna Maria Tremonti started off by asking Mark Starowicz if he drove a Honda Civic. [He does not.]

Louis C.K.’s joke was about how short documentary filmmakers really stand out in contrast to everything else at the awards show that night. I get it now. It’s Glitz vs. Guts. Love vs. Money. Yet, this joke is also pointing out the stark differences within the documentary world itself.

There are the small documentaries and there are the big documentaries. And there are lots of variations in between. Corporate documentaries sometimes look down upon “auteur” documentaries and may even call them “egotistical” yet it’s what most people want to see. It’s what I want to see.

With the arrival of VICELAND as the hottest non-fiction channel out there right now (Spike Jonze at the helm) and their bent on championing the personal perspective on “all the things that make up life,” I may have finally found a bigger pond to swim in or maybe the world is slowly changing.

After all, I am practicing Canada’s national art form. As Jazz is to America, so is Documentary to Canada according to Documentary Organization of Canada but is there a real future internet out there where I can independently release and monetize my short docs? Maybe that’s a different discussion. Meanwhile, I’m like a potter to the wheel. This is my spin.

Without the help of my parents, I wouldn’t be able to do any of this at all. I want to make them proud and grow up to be a good man. After getting through some technical glitches, I’ve got the editing software finally working again. I’m selecting, rendering, listening. I just want to do my best at the job, tell the story, follow point A to point B.

I’m repeat-listening to interviews and I’m plotting new ways to make connections with the footage; I’m designing the structure of the film. I miss my fervent caffeinated discussions with my film-making friends of old, our creative juices in the virtual blender: Chop, Mix, Purée.

Mostly, I’m deep in the thick of artistic creation. Perhaps, my distracted mode is closer to an mathematician who is trying to figure out an equation, often interrupting daily life by making quick notes on scrap paper lying around. Occasionally, I intentionally come up for air to get a breath.

I look for inspiration. I’m also keeping myself open for donations: not only will it boost my morale, reading this entry all the way to the end gives you access to a special secret new perk. Priority is to get my Vimeo Pro back up, this money will go directly towards helping me share this film when it’s ready.

So, my friend did not get the Oscar. And lately, with all the set-backs, I’m feeling like blasting Beck’s song; I’m a loser, baby. So why don’t you kill me in my “crappy apartment.” I’ve got all is extra angst I can channel into my work.

I got something else from watching the Oscars, that night. I can remind myself of Margaret Sixel’s eloquent words in accepting her Academy Award, for editing Mad Max: Fury Road.

She said, “Honestly, it’s in the edit room that the film…is finally forged. It’s the final re-write,” she said. “I just want to salute…all who work in post [production] who work with their hands, heads, and most importantly, their hearts.”

I can’t forget my heart. Much love, Lester