“I immediately recognized her as a compelling and original talent, someone whose work should be supported in every way. Her broad perspective on human nature is vividly evident in this script, as is her remarkable openness of heart. She takes the ordinary, blends the known and unknown, yet provides no easy explanations. Her gift is to love it all passionately and compassionately.” - Ellen Parks, Casting Director/Professor at NYU Tisch & Columbia University

Welcome to my personal artist’s website, a space separate from my production company, Allred Films—where I get weirder and wilder.

What is art if not a vehicle for liberation? To make art is to stretch into the far reaches of imagination, to pierce the veil of hidden desires, to embrace truths that even the bravest among us fear exposing.

Below, you'll find my professional bio detailing my filmmaking credentials for those interested. But this site is something else—a place where I share my photography, my written musings in my blog S.A.P., and an open space for raw, alive creative exploration.

While my primary medium is film—as a screenwriter, director, producer, cinematographer, and editor—I’d argue that my true medium is reality itself. Art is not a product but a process, a constant unfolding, where perception is the primary tool. Through our interaction with what appears to be the “outer” world, we architect the reality around us. I explore this deeper in my essay The Metaverse vs. the Holographic Universe—a topic that lies at the heart of my artistic curiosity.

Process-Oriented Filmmaking: Art and Reality Interwoven

This philosophy led me to develop a unique style of filmmaking, which I used in my first feature film and later in my short film Sacred Fool. I call it process-oriented filmmaking. It’s not just improvisation; it’s a method where the process of making a film—and the real-world events that unfold during its creation—become integral to the story itself.

Art informs reality, and reality informs art. The two begin to blur. But this is not reality TV—not as we know it.

In my first feature, two central storylines mirrored each other. One was fully scripted. The other—more archetypal and dreamlike—had a loose plot with key beats but was deeply influenced by the organic dynamics between the actors and the real world events that unfolded around us as we made the film. I was both behind the camera and in front of it, by design. The film explored power and hierarchy within the filmmaking process itself, so I—holding the ultimate authority as the writer, director, producer, and DP—placed myself in a role where I had to relinquish control.

In this storyline, I played the sub in a sub/dom relationship, requiring me to make myself truly vulnerable to my co-star, Ben Farmer. Our real-life dynamic bled into the film, shifting and evolving naturally. At a pivotal moment, I had to abruptly seize back control to drive the climax—an act that brought relief to Farmer, as it restored the familiar structure of the director-actor relationship.

This approach was risky. It demanded real emotions, real vulnerability, real stakes. Humans crave structure, boundaries, the comfort of black-and-white distinctions—but this process lived in the messy, undefined in-between.

Filmmaking as a Waking Dream

Years before making my first feature, I was experimenting freely with a DSLR, filming in an instinctive, improvisational style. At the same time, I was attending Awaken in the Dream groups led by author and healer Paul Levy. These were rooted in Jungian principles—the idea that waking life itself is structured like a dream, where each person we encounter is a reflection of ourselves.

In the Dream groups, interpersonal conflicts would naturally arise. Triggers, projections, power struggles—things that typically get repressed in social or professional settings—were instead dived into. The goal was to face the shadow, not suppress it. Once freed, the shadow emerges wildly and without restraint before it can be transmuted. This was not an easy process; it required resilience and courage.

I became fascinated with how filmmaking could function as its own “waking dream.”

This led me to create an experimental film, Awaken in the Dream. Strangely, I found that events in my real life would soon be reflected in front of the camera—refracted, condensed, intensified. It was as if the film was shaping reality as much as reality was shaping the film.

That project never saw completion—it was more of a sandbox, a space to experiment, to learn. But what I discovered in its making became the foundation for the feature that followed, as well as a subsequent short, Sacred Fool.

Now, I am going full throttle to what I will call the magnum opus of this style, a new feature film, The Watcher’s Game.

The Watcher’s Game is a mind-bending, visually immersive feature film about a young man who vanishes after playing a reality-altering AR game. He awakens in a strange new timeline with no memory of who he is. As he unravels the truth, reality itself begins to dissolve—revealing a world shaped as much by perception as by fate. 

The Watcher’s Game is a feature film that blends science fiction, mysticism, and cinema verité into a vibrant, immersive story about consciousness, perception, and creation. Filmed between Sayulita, Mexico and Chicago, the story follows Elijah, a young man who plays an augmented reality game so intense it begins to alter his perception of the world, and thereby alters reality itself. After “winning” the game, he awakens in a new timeline with no memory of who he is—only fragments that lead him deeper into questions of identity, illusion, and creation.

The film will be shot in a hybrid style that combines lush, intimate cinematography with spontaneous, vérité-inspired moments. It will be colorful, vibrant, and alive—evoking both the sensory richness of the physical world and the shifting nature of perception. I will use layered sound design, dreamlike pacing, and visual reframing to immerse viewers in the character’s inner state as much as the outer world. It will be taut with suspense and tension as Elijah navigates this new timeline, but will also include quiet, meditative reprieves where cinema itself becomes a mirror of perception—where images, sounds, and story slow down to invite contemplation.

The film will be made using my process-oriented filmmaking method, in which real-life events and improvisation become part of the narrative itself. While there is a strong narrative structure and clear story arc, some of the characters, locations, and scenes will emerge organically through the filmmaking process. In this way, the content and the process mirror each other: the film is about reality as a malleable simulation, and it will be created in a way that reflects that philosophy. This method requires deep trust, nimble collaboration, and a small, flexible crew able to respond intuitively to unfolding events.

This filmmaking method is one I’ve developed and refined over time, first with my debut feature film and later in my short, Sacred Fool. In both, I worked with actors whose emotional truths and lived experiences became entangled with the narrative—but just as crucial were the events that unfolded around us in real time. Unplanned interactions, environmental shifts, and spontaneous moments on set often wove themselves into the film’s fabric. This process demands deep presence and vulnerability from both cast and crew. It opens a space for cinematic alchemy, where fiction and life intermingle and the unexpected becomes essential.

The audience’s experience will be one of immersion—emotionally, psychologically, and sensorially. Rather than being handed answers, viewers are invited into a layered, liminal experience where reality bends and questions deepen. The tone will shift between grounded realism and the surreal logic of dreams. As reality fractures and reforms, the viewer is invited into a participatory gaze—one where watching becomes a generative act and they become attuned to the flickering edge where perception gives birth to reality.