I have learned how to make films. I am still learning how to pay for them.

That sentence is really where this project began.

I'm Jose Manuel Pichardo Jr., a filmmaker, documentarian, cinematographer, FAA Part 107 drone pilot, graduate documentary filmmaking student, and founder of Pichardo Productions LLC.

Over the years, I've learned a lot about telling stories. I've learned how to build relationships with the people who trust me with those stories. I've learned how to direct, shoot, produce, edit alongside my team, travel with a camera, work with very little, and keep going when things don't go according to plan.

But there is another part of independent filmmaking that we don't talk about nearly enough:

How do you actually pay for it?

That's what The Art of Funding or The Art of Failing to Fund is about.

The experiment

I'm currently producing a feature documentary called Urban Canvas: From The Underground Up , a film that looks beyond graffiti on the wall and focuses on the artists, history, relationships, access, trust, and humanity behind the culture.

We've already done a tremendous amount of the work. We've built relationships. We've gained access. We've filmed. We've invested our own time, equipment, labor, travel, and resources into telling this story.

Now comes one of the hardest parts: finding the resources to finish it.

Rather than making another pitch deck, submitting another grant application and quietly waiting for an answer, I decided to turn the camera around and document that process too.

For one semester, I'm going to peel back the curtain on what it actually takes for an independent filmmaker to try to fund a film.

I'll research grants. I'll visit libraries. I'll approach businesses and organizations. I'll talk with nonprofits and economic-development resources. I'll ask about sponsorships, partnerships and in-kind support. I'll send emails. I'll make calls. I'll follow up. I'll hear yes. I'll hear no. I'll probably hear nothing at all.

And now, I'm trying crowdfunding.

This campaign is part of the experiment.

What does “funding” really mean?

One thing I've already learned is that funding isn't always a check.

A donated location has value.

Someone providing meals for a production day has value.

Transportation has value. Equipment has value. Post-production has value. Printing has value. Introductions have value. Someone opening a door that I couldn't open by myself has value.

So throughout this process, I'm keeping score—not just of the dollars raised, but of the work required to raise them.

How many grants did I research?

How many applications did I submit?

How many people did I contact?

How many meetings did I have?

How many follow-ups did I send?

How many people said no?

How many never answered?

How much support came through in-kind contributions?

And maybe most importantly:

How many hours did it take just to find the resources that allow us to do the work?

Where your contribution goes

Money raised through this campaign will support the continued production and completion of Urban Canvas: From The Underground Up .

That means helping us cover the real expenses independent productions face: production costs, transportation, crew, equipment needs, media and storage, post-production, sound, color, music and licensing, accessibility and deliverables, and ultimately getting the finished film in front of an audience.

We're not starting from an idea on a piece of paper. We're already making the film.

Your support helps us keep going.

You're part of the story

This is where things get interesting.

If you contribute to this campaign, you're not simply donating to a filmmaker and disappearing into a list of names.

You become part of the experiment.

You're helping answer the very question the documentary is asking.

Can a community help an independent filmmaker move a story forward?

Can ten people make a difference? Fifty? One hundred?

Can somebody who can't contribute financially make an introduction that changes everything?

Can someone donate a service we would otherwise have to pay for?

Can sharing this campaign put it in front of the one person who can open the next door?

I don't know.

And that's important.

I'm not making The Art of Funding or The Art of Failing to Fund after I already know the ending. I'm documenting it while it's happening.

This campaign might succeed.

It might fall short.

We might discover that the most valuable contribution wasn't money at all.

Whatever happens, that's the story.

And if you decide to participate—whether through a contribution, an in-kind resource, an introduction, or simply sharing the campaign—you aren't watching the experiment from the outside.

You're helping shape what happens next.

At the end of this journey, there's one question I have to answer:

Did any of this actually help fund the film?

Let's find out.