Money, money, money.

Since I started making AI-generated videos, I’ve covered every part of the process myself—image generation, video animation, music, narration, editing, even the social media, website, podcast and blog —the whole lot. What some people don’t realise is that, even though it’s “digital,” it’s not free. Each step involves dedicated tools—software for creating images, generating video, crafting audio, sourcing music, and editing it all together. These tools aren’t just time-consuming to learn—they come with real costs too.

The videos I make are still so early in their journey that it may take years—literally—before I can even begin to monetise them. And because I’m not chasing drama or shock, I’m creating work that often slips past the social media algorithms unnoticed.

So, around a month ago, when the opportunity arose, I applied for a small business grant aimed at supporting creative technology projects. If I’d received it, the funds would’ve gone straight into covering software costs and helping me keep this project sustainable. Unfortunately, I wasn’t selected. They didn’t give a reason, but if I had to guess, I’d say it’s probably because I’m a one-person operation. Maybe they were looking for larger teams or more traditional startups. That’s fair enough—but still disappointing.

Take the “Portraits in Time” series, for instance. It might look simple on the surface—a single character holding your attention—but getting there takes a lot of unseen effort. I start with dozens of AI-generated images to get just one that feels right. Often the characters come out too perfect, like fashion models with glossy skin and over-bright teeth. Sometimes their hands are distorted, or the overall look just doesn’t feel real enough. Once I do have an image that works, I try to turn it into a longer animated sequence—around thirty seconds—which is far beyond the usual five to ten seconds AI typically handles well. That brings another challenge: keeping the character consistent throughout. AI tends to drift, losing facial features or body language halfway through. So behind every finished clip is a pile of failed generations, all of which cost time and money (every second of image/video costs me money to produce), even though no one ever sees them. Thirty seconds can easily take days to create…

Many times, it can feel hard to continue—especially when the realities of the world come knocking at the door. Perhaps, they whisper in my ear, I should make something more commercial: focus on the trending topics and add in some eye candy. AI cute cats, pretty ladies, talking babies, explosions, and backpacking bigfoots (okay, I admit it—that was quite cool when I first saw it)...

But that’s not what I set out to do.
Waterlane Studios is meant to be a space for quiet reflection—a place to grow alongside AI, and also to offer an alternative to the mass-produced, attention-chasing content we’re bombarded with.

If, that is, I can afford it—not just financially, but spiritually too, with the time and energy it asks of me.

But really… if I want to stay true to this vision—can I afford not to?

Money—it matters, of course it does. But the more it’s seen as the driving force behind media and art, the more surface-level and instant gratification we are force-fed. Is that the world we want to live in?

Or more importantly… is that the world I want to create?

I’m sharing this here not as a complaint, but just to give a clearer picture of what goes on behind the scenes. This isn’t a hobby—it’s something I’m building seriously, piece by piece, even if it doesn’t always show on the surface.

Dave