We recently connected with Harrison Shook and have shared our conversation below.

Hi Harrison, thanks for joining us today. We’d love to hear about when you first realized that you wanted to pursue a creative path professionally.

The dream of one day being a filmmaker came to me when I was early in high school and stumbled across Youtube video essays and Edgar Wright movies – but dreams are a peculiar thing, and at some point you wake up, and usually you forget them forever. But sometimes, if you’re very, very lucky, you’ll stumble across an image or a word or idea in your waking life that jogs the memory of an old, forgotten dream.

I woke up to a world that, as loving and supportive as it was, justifiably did not encourage art as a legitimate career path. Slowly and methodically, the dream faded from my memory. I spent the rest of my high school days in Texas, playing sports and occasionally (and insecurely) practicing my hobby of photography, content to stay in my home state for college and study something “normal.”

But with one month till graduation, and a few weeks left for a college decision, COVID hit. It was a terrible and magical and very strange time where I was forced to do nothing for long enough to finally consider what I actually wanted to do. Somewhere in that process, I was reminded of the youthful naive dream again – and for some unexplainable reason, I needed to fight to live in it forever. I scrambled to change directions towards film school and left home on a bit of a whim. Even though I wouldn’t finish, I was given my first real glimpse at a world I’ve fallen more in love with everyday since. I’m deeply grateful a forgotten dream came back and grabbed me when I was just 18 – still irrational and stupid enough to give every ounce of me that I have to offer.

Great, appreciate you sharing that with us. Before we ask you to share more of your insights, can you take a moment to introduce yourself and how you got to where you are today to our readers

According to my website, I am “becoming a filmmaker and artist in Nashville and elsewhere”, and that seems pretty apt. That notion of “becoming” is prevalent in my artistic and occupational self-identification right now, as early in my career and life as I am. I’m moved deeply by anything that forces me to exercise my own humanity, and hope and pray my work does that for others. My work tends to explore philosophy and faith and art itself, and I want to continue to do so, working in all of these mediums, but have my hopes and efforts set upon directing feature films in the future. Right now, I direct short films and music videos, I paint, I shoot photos, I write, and when I think about doing all those things forever and ever, I dance a lot.

We often hear about learning lessons – but just as important is unlearning lessons. Have you ever had to unlearn a lesson?

Growing up, I think I somehow believed that those who make art are radically different and special, those who don’t are boring and worthless, I fell into the second category, and changing that was impossible.

That is a lie, and if you believe that too, I’m very sorry. But I deeply understand.

First off, there is so much beauty and purpose in not doing something “creative” professionally. That sounds obvious, but I certainly didn’t always feel that way. But, if you have a dream to live and work in some art world, it is not as far away as you think. In high school, I put artists on such a pedestal that, despite wanting it more than anything in the world, I was paralyzed with fear anytime I tried to create. It was imposter syndrome taken to a degree that led me to hide work I made, self-sabotage projects before I finished them, or simply excuse my inaction because I was “too busy”. I wanted to create so bad, but felt like such a fraud, that I would rather not try than put myself out there and fail. It was only through loving community, very encouraging words from people I respect, and a series of leaps of faith that I was able to overcome genuine artistic paralysis. But, I think it was rooted in this false understanding of my place in relation to those who were actually living out my dreams – I see now that they weren’t nearly as far away as my mind let me believe.

Is there a particular goal or mission driving your creative journey?

For the last year or so, I’ve been fascinated by the way we communicate with one another, especially through the art that we create and share. I’ve found myself wrestling with things I simply didn’t have the words for, but through a painting or a book or a film, I felt that those things were expressed and communicated. The inability to communicate is so isolating, but when you see someone express those things through art, you feel less alone. James Baldwin said “You think your pain and your heartbreak are unprecedented in the history of the world, but then you read.” I have seen this to be true in my own life, and I also think purely visual and sonic art has a way of making us feel deep companionship in very distinct, very peculiar ways.

I held an art exhibition rooted in this idea called “Words Are Not Enough” in November, and much of my writing and work lately has dealt with similar ideas. In a way, my goal in art in this time has been to wrestle with and communicate the ideas that I otherwise never could, and encourage other people to do the same thing. We need each other, we need the ability to communicate with one another, and sometimes art is the best way to do so.

Contact Info:

• Website: www.harrisonshook.com
• Instagram: @harrison.shook

Image Credits
Elizabeth Marsh, Tyler Krippaehne