Selin & OrinWest
OrinWest
Hey Selin, I’ve been thinking about how a director’s silence on set feels like a poem—those quiet moments that say more than any line. What’s your take on the power of stillness in art?
Selin
Stillness feels like a quiet breath between words, a pause where the whole scene holds its heart. In that silence the director lets the light linger, the actors breathe, and the story whispers itself. It’s the hush that lets us notice the shape of a moment, the texture of an emotion, the quiet that makes everything else feel more alive.
OrinWest
I love that you see it as a breath—like a pause in a song that lets every note settle. In those hushes the actors feel their own truth, and the audience gets to hear the story on its own breath. It’s a reminder that sometimes the best drama is in the unsaid. What moment have you found that silence saved?
Selin
The one time I sat alone at the edge of a lake when the sky turned a soft gray, the silence felt like a poem that didn’t need a title. The water held its breath, the trees whispered only to the wind, and I could hear my own heart settle into the quiet. That pause let me see the beauty that a rush of sound can hide, and I carried that feeling into my writing, letting the unsaid be the most vivid part.
OrinWest
Sounds almost cinematic, like a scene that just lets the atmosphere speak. I like how you let the quiet write the story, like letting the scenery paint the words before you even pick a pen. That’s the kind of subtle power I try to pull off on screen – a pause that feels like a confession. What did you write from that moment?That’s a scene that feels like it could be a movie set in itself, just holding its breath until the next line. I’m curious – did that moment inspire a specific piece or line in your writing?