I’m putting my own production workflow to the test. I’m recording a new series of Notes From the Director videos where I demonstrate how my ICM Folder Factories work. But here’s the interesting part: I’m using those same factories to produce the videos themselves. The goal is pretty simple. I want to sit down, turn on my camera, share my screen, and talk about something I’m working on. Then let the factories handle the production process: - Organize the camera and screen recordings. - Assemble and edit the footage in Adobe Premiere. - Add branded graphics, titles, and transitions. - Incorporate music and relevant B-roll. - Prepare the finished video for YouTube. - Generate descriptions, thumbnails, and supporting content. - Upload the finished episode to my channel. The screenshots show an early rough assembly in Premiere. We’re building and testing the workflow as we go. The objective isn’t to remove the artist from the process. It’s to remove the repetitive production work. I’ve spent decades directing, editing, and producing content. I know how to do all these things. But I don’t need to personally perform every mechanical task anymore. I’d rather spend that time creating the next thing. And there’s something wonderfully circular about using the very system I’m teaching to produce the lessons about that system. I’ll share more as we develop the workflow, including what works, what breaks, and what still needs a human making the decisions. Stop prompting. Start directing. — Racon Gunner #NotesFromTheDirector #ICMFolderFactories #AIFilmmaking

Professional creatives often discuss composition with nouns. Mountain. Building. Character. Road. Window. Weapon. But line direction works more like a verb. It tells the audience what the picture is doing. Verticals rise, tower, endure, confront, and stand. Horizontals rest, settle, stretch, wait, and stop. Obliques lunge, fall, collide, escape, and fracture. These are not rigid definitions. Context, scale, contrast, movement, and subject matter can change the result. But they are useful starting points for making and communicating a creative decision. Use this exercise with a film frame, storyboard, illustration, poster, presentation, set, or AI-generated image. 1. Name the story beat Complete this sentence: “At this moment, the audience should feel that the subject is _____.” Use a verb or active condition. Towering. Resting. Waiting. Falling. Attacking. Escaping. If the team cannot name the emotional action, the composition does not have a clear job yet. 2. Build three directional thumbnails Keep the subject and basic value structure the same. Create one version dominated by verticals, one by horizontals, and one by obliques. Work small enough that detail cannot rescue a weak decision. 3. Find the dominant family Do not inventory every line in the picture. Ask which direction controls the frame. A horizontal composition can contain a vertical figure. An oblique composition can contain a level horizon. What matters is the directional family that organizes the largest shapes and strongest movements. 4. Check whether the subject and frame agree A calm subject inside aggressive obliques creates tension. A violent subject inside rigid verticals can feel controlled, monumental, or trapped. A standing figure surrounded by horizontals can feel peaceful, lonely, or stopped. Agreement reinforces the emotion. Contradiction creates another meaning. Choose deliberately. 5. Remove accidental directions Look for background architecture, props, shadows, limbs, and camera angles that introduce a competing line family.

I just published a complete case study of how we made The Lost World graphic novel. This is not a victory lap about making attractive images with AI. It is a record of what broke when we tried to carry creative judgment across 100 story pages and 372 separately rendered panels. The central problem was simple: A good image is not a finished comic. A panel can be beautiful and still damage the sequence. A character changes costume. A creature loses its identity. The geography stops making sense. Lettering covers the wrong expression. A print-safe page fails after upload. Scale does not merely multiply the work. It multiplies every unresolved decision. Before you scale a comic, film, course, presentation, or AI-assisted creative project, run this test. 1. CAN THE IDEA SURVIVE REPETITION? Do not judge the project by its best image. Put the cast together. Show the character from behind. Return to the same location under different conditions. Make the creature turn, move, and reappear. If the design cannot survive repetition, it is not ready for production. 2. HAVE YOU PROVED THE DIFFICULT PAGE? We tested a technical page and a difficult consecutive sequence before bulk production. The pilot should contain the problems most likely to break the system, not the easiest material you know will look good. If the hard page fails, fix the process before producing fifty more failures. 3. ARE THE CREATIVE JOBS SEPARATED? Story, production design, geometry, value, painted finish, lettering, web delivery, and print preparation have different failure modes. An approval at one stage does not automatically approve the next. Color cannot rescue weak values. A finished painting does not prove the reading order. A 300 dpi file does not prove that the page is safe for print. 4. CAN YOU RECOVER AFTER A BAD DECISION? Keep the rejected version. Record why it failed, which revision replaced it, and what rule should prevent the same failure from spreading. We changed the factory when false value studies appeared, continuity drifted, painted panels became too synthetic, and lettering became too slow and difficult to control.