A Shift in Motion
A Note from Shelby
Lately, I’ve realized that I’ve been trying to force The Reel Collective into something it’s not. The business side of it—spreadsheets, marketing plans, strategy decks—became the least interesting part. And instead of pausing, I kept grinding… until I started to resent it.
In May and June, I took a few trips—a wedding, a funeral, a birthday getaway, and a visit to see a friend. (Drive back and forth from Tennessee to Ohio a few times and your whole life might flash before you too, lol.) One of those trips took me to New York, and something cracked open again—I remembered how much I love theater.
I mean, I started in theater at eight years old and stayed in it for a decade. Then I went to film school and hadn’t touched it since. But that trip reminded me of a part of myself I’d been ignoring. Since then, I’ve been slowly letting myself explore that side of my artistry again. The Ned has given me the space to play in that world a little—and while it might not seem like a big deal to anyone else, it is to me. Especially right now.
On those long drives and in those quiet moments, I remembered: I started this journey as a storyteller. I wanted to make things I loved with people I love. Somewhere along the way, I let the things that didn’t matter as much take up too much space.
It’s not that learning how to run a business isn’t valuable—I’m thankful for what I’ve built. But I’ve never really fit into neat structures. How do you think I ended up back here in the first place after what looked like a promising start in LA? I could’ve returned post-2020, but something deeper in me said no. And truthfully, every good thing in my life since then has come from following creative pull—not chasing traditional paths.
So The Reel Collective might start to evolve in a different direction, because I am. And look—I know I’ve said that before. I’m aware. But you’re talking to an artist at her core. Evolution should be expected. Creating is becoming, and I tend to process things in real time—out loud, on the page, and sometimes right here with y’all.
I’m deeply affected by what I surround myself with—and who I surround myself with—so are we really that surprised? Still, this shift feels different. It doesn’t feel like a pivot or a departure. It feels like coming home.
This past week, I felt fully alive teaching filmmaking to a group of kids who reminded me why I fell in love with this in the first place. I’m writing again. Directing again. Allowing creativity to lead instead of pressure to produce.
Someone recently told me TRC is like the “last infinity stone” of the Jackson arts community (no pressure, right?). While I definitely don’t feel like Vision—and promise there will be no snapping—I was reminded that I can’t represent film here if I’m not actively making it. When I’m not creating, I feel disconnected. And when you try to turn something you love into something to sell, it’s easy to forget the joy that started it all.
So no, TRC isn’t going anywhere. But right now, I’m in my “screw it, I’m creating” era. I’m not chasing outcomes—I’m letting alignment guide me. If that’s the journey you’re on too, you’re not alone. I’m still here to help you find your way in it—whether that’s through our budget template, one-on-one development sessions, or just pointing you toward the right next step. But you’ll probably see less marketing from me and more of us actually making things.
Here’s to art that lights us up. And the freedom to keep going, no matter what.
With love + curiosity,
Shelby
