The Making of Echo
When I first imagined Echo, it was just a poem in my notes app—a reflection on healing, femininity, and the moments we are lucky to experience. I wanted to capture something intimate, raw, and real, something that would resonate without words sometimes, and leave space for the audience to feel alongside us. The challenge? We had a budget of just $300. But I’ve always believed that creativity thrives under constraints, and Echo became a testament to that.
Pre-production was a delicate balance of dreaming big while planning with precision. Every location, every dress, every framing choice was intentional. We leaned into what we had: textures, natural light, and the energy of the people around us. Casting was crucial— I needed someone who could bring vulnerability and honesty to every frame while still embodying that flirty, lightness-of-being feeling that comes from being in a safe partnership, in love. Jennifer Peña, our lead actress, embodied the spirit of the film perfectly. A bonus was her dancing background, which allowed us to weave in even more romance and poetic movement to the story. Adding a beautiful touch the ending!
On set, it was a beautiful chaos. With a small crew and a DIY ethos, we shot in unconventional spaces, guided by the story rather than expensive equipment. Each frame was carefully composed (perfectionism could be an understatement), yet open to the spontaneity that vérité-style filmmaking allows. Every scene became an exercise in trust. Trust between the crew, the performers, and myself as a director. My DP, Chris A. Cerda, and I collaborated closely, balancing cinematic precision with emotional authenticity.
And then, life reminded us that filmmaking is never fully in your control: it rained on us, which stopped production for 45 minutes, and pushed our schedule too back to finish. We had to pack up, regroup, and reassemble for a pick-up day. It was a lesson in patience, adaptability, and rolling with the punches— proof that sometimes the best work comes from persistence and creative problem-solving.
Post-production was where the heart of Echo fully emerged. Editing with intention, balancing sound, pacing, and color, I realized how much the story lives in the details— the subtle movements, the way light kisses skin, the spaces between words. It honestly became more than a film; it was a vessel for healing, reflection, and celebration of the feminine, the cultural, and the personal.
Reflecting on this journey, I’m reminded that art often flourishes against the odds. $300 is almost nothing in a world where even a single shoot can cost thousands, yet the film’s impact has already exceeded what money could buy. Imagine what could happen if we supported more independent artists… how many more voices could rise, how many more stories could touch hearts.
Echo isn’t just my story. It’s a collective testament to resilience, imagination, and the power of community. And now, as it prepares for its next screening at the Atlanta Women’s Film Festival, I can’t help but feel proud, humbled, and inspired to keep creating.
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