Fruitful Muse: Danielle

A creative producer whose to-do lists are far more hodge-podge than you'd expect, introducing the last of the Fruitful Muse trio: Danielle.

We’ve met Cristel. We’ve met Brittany Marie. There’s one more member of the Fruitful Muse team ready to step up to the chaotic bat of these all-in profiles. Danielle is a creative producer in the screen and audio world. She’s obsessed with the notion that our creative work maybe, sometimes, always should love us back, overwhelmed with evidence of what’s possible when we do it together, and can’t wait to call BS on those limiting beliefs you’ve had, you know, lying around.

Tell me who you are, without a relationship to someone else (ie - not someone's partner, someone's daughter, someone's friend).

I’m learning how to live with contradictions and duality. There’s a quote from Sam Shepard I love: ‘Right in the centre of the contradiction is where we’re meant to be.’ Over the past few years, in every aspect of my life, I’ve been learning that simple binary outcomes aren’t always the solution. They’re not quite the golden thing we’re looking for. Sometimes, in the complicated and the complexity and the didn’t-quite-look-the-way-I-thought-it-would, we can find so much more of an invitation to turn up entirely present as ourselves. I’m working to enter into the world as my own best representative of self every single day, and not as a version I think someone else may be eager for. This invitation is helping me to imperfectly work my way towards that.

Now tell me who you are IN those important relationships.

I’ve been with my partner (husband, if we’re getting technical) for almost more of our lives than we haven’t. He is still the human I long for, and that is a wondrous gift. In that relationship, my favourite version of me is the one that’s making him chuckle with surprise at something silly I’ve done. Happens more often than I should be proud of.

I’m the eldest sister of many siblings who make me laugh like nobody else. When we’re together, it is absolute nonsense joyful chaos. 

I’m the daughter of a father and a stepmum who model encouragement, enthusiasm, and generous open doors in how they live and how they encourage us to do the same.

I’m the friend of some of the most phenomenal humans in the world. I get to build little worlds with them, share spaces with them, and be utterly ourselves together. It is fiercely special to exist in those worlds with them, whether it’s the 3am dance parties, the crying-in-public chats, the voice memos just because, or the turning up in the total pits of each other’s heartaches. 

I’m the collaborator of creative beings who can conjure entire experiences with a handful of words. I’ll never get sick of stepping into the unknowns together.

Tell us about three 'portal' places in your life.

Joshua Tree (even after once having two separate rental cars puncture the same tyre within six hours. Bit of a weird vibe, but still into it.)

My childhood home. I grew up on an acreage near a rainforest, which was the first world I learnt to adventure through by myself. Many mystical kingdoms lived on in those acres and they were ours for the taking. 

Marathon conversations, wherever they take place. My favourites are those that meander, that are unabashed, that challenge, that balm and heal. I’m always on the hunt for them. They’re an opportunity to relate to myself differently, as well as to the humans I’m playing with. They’ve often involved midnight streets with that pooling hazy orange streetlight and sweltering summer bitumen. The best place to jump into a life utterly different to your own, even for just a moment. 

You can jump into a life utterly different from your own. What is it you desire to desire?

I get teased about this because even in a dream life, I’m still working. I really love to work (and I’m aware of the privilege of getting to do work that I love). I love seeing what we’re capable of when we’re in problem-solving, mountain-climbing mode. In that different life, I often think about, like, herding sheep in the wilds of Scotland. I wouldn’t last a day, but a girl can dream. 

A moment the world stopped for you that lives in your head rent-free

A couple of late-night dance parties that happened a few years ago with some close friends. We were all in the midst of some Big Life Things that were asking for more than we had to give. In those moments, we were communicating with different tools, so present in it. I didn’t know your life could change because of the right kind of mish-mash playlist quite as well as I did after those nights. 

A moment a new world started for you

My partner and I moved from the state we’d both spent the first 30 years of our lives in in the middle of 2023, from Meanjin/Brisbane, QLD, to Naarm/Melbourne, VIC. I remember the moment when we decided to do so. We were sitting in a theatre down here in our new city on a week’s visit, with friends we adore, and in that moment, I felt like I was being welcomed home. It was immediate and it put to rest any uncertainties about a fairly big decision. We’re now months into living here and that has truly been our experience, that gut knowing delivering on every level. It’s a new world within a world that we know of our country, Australia, and it’s been utterly joyous.

One knowing that has changed your life

I’m one of four biological sisters who were raised by a man who communicates all kinds of life lessons through movies. When we each turned about 8 or 9 years old, Dad would sit us down and show us his favourite movie, Braveheart. (Got into a fight with a friend at school? ‘It’s our wits that make us men’ is definitely the advice you’re likely to hear in return.) 

I have this insatiable quest in my life for the idea of justice. I can track much of that yearning back to these early cinematic experiences, even if the youngest of us still cried at the first rolling head. 

A creative project you're proudest of

A few years ago, I produced an Audible Original Podcast called Winding Road. Bringing that to life from the first conception in a different format through to developing the project, the team, the scripts, working with incredible actors and musicians, and seeing our Australian story reach audiences around the world - that was such a rich, creative, and satisfying experience. It was also a great lesson of following an instinct, learning how to resource that instinct, pushing out the edges of what we knew and going deeper at every turn.

I’m also immensely proud of a docuseries for the ABC, My Body Says. Working with these four humans who trusted us so entirely to tell such a vulnerable story about their own experiences in their bodies and in their beings was a huge gift. 

And now that I’ve started, I’m tempted to name all of them - every project has given me so much in terms of learning, friendships, experiences, insights, that I’m constantly grateful for each opportunity to put my hands to the wheel again.

A moment you almost gave it all up for good

March 2020. There was a day when Australia felt like it closed down overnight in response to COVID-19. I’d made the decision to dive in and begin working for myself as a producer just a couple of months before. I was sitting on the precipice of running my own business without a back-up plan, and at that moment, it felt like possibly the worst time in the world to do it (within an already volatile industry). I remember thinking, I don’t know if I’ve got what it takes to navigate both at once.

Fast forward to seeing that decision through, and ultimately, it was one of the most rewarding years of my life, on both a creative and a professional level. But it took a LOT of work, and a lot of beautiful humans in fellow creative fields on speed-dial, gently and firmly nurturing each other through. 

Where do we meet you today?

It’s March 2024. I live in Naarm, Melbourne, with my partner and our Australian Shepherd. I’m on the hunt for the real-life version of the work-life balance catch-phrase, because both of us are building big things. I’m a creative producer who works alongside an incredible group of writers, directors, fellow producers and creative teams to build stories in screen and audio formats. I’m also working alongside Brittany Marie and Cristel to build Fruitful Muse, which has been birthed for me out of my work on Field Kit over the past few years, which was an online resource and community hub for creatives. Fruitful Muse is now embodying so many of the visions and the tools and the conversations that I have offline and in the Field Kit space. To be able to do that alongside these two women has been such an incredible joy. I guess you meet me in the midst of figuring out what it is that I’m holding onto and what it is that I need to let go of.

Dream work day?

Coffee with Jono, and our dog, who gets all kinds of in her feelings if she’s not involved in those morning hangs. Sometimes we’ll wander out for breakfast on the streets by our home, which are overwhelmingly full with too many good options. We’ll have a quick stop at a park close by for some sunshine. I’d love to throw more reading into the mix, too, but my brain often wakes up so full with things it wants to get to that I’m eager to get into work. (ADHD-diagnosed and ADHD-stereotype-embodying.) I like to mix the week up in terms of the kind of work I’m doing: too many meetings in one and I’m all talk, no execution. I need both that collaborative space and then the space to implement. Much of what I do in my workday is tugging on different threads, figuring out which ones to prioritise, and finding my way through what can often be an overwhelming amount of options. Creative projects can work on an unusual rhythm that, at times, is outside of your control. You could be in the early stages of development on a script that nobody else will read for a year, or you could be figuring out how to actually pull that project off once you’ve got the green light. I like the intermittent rhythm of the whirlwind of production alongside the tension of development, which can mean there’s a natural ebb and flow to my work. That doesn’t really answer the question, but it’s the answer we’ll roll with. 

Work day you'd love to avoid but are learning how to navigate?

Admin admin admin admin. A lot of people assume I’m really organised because of the nature of my work - and I am for others, but I’m a mixed bag of ‘final final FINAL’ file names and multiple project management platforms myself. It’s a bit of a troll. 

Role within Fruitful Muse?

I’m constantly asking questions. We all are, which I’m so grateful for. I’m a big picture thinker, and I’m bringing in my perspective of having worked alongside so many different creatives with so many different needs, looking at how we can serve a wide variety of humans with specificity and intent. We’re tackling many challenges in Fruitful Muse, and in many ways, that’s the exact nature of my producing work. As a creative producer, it’s my job to create space for the vision, to be a part of building that vision, to empower others to build their own, and then to move onto the casual matters of executing on the wild ride of bringing that vision to life. It’s much the same within Fruitful Muse, and will be the same within our community. 

What you're excited about in the Fruitful Muse community?

SO much. This is testing even some of my own pesky limiting beliefs about what can happen when creatives gather with intention. There is so much more that is available to each of us than the very little drabs we’ve been taught to accept. 

In Australia in particular, arts industries and creativity can sit in this kind of ‘grant’ funding mentality, where practitioners are often fighting for grants that are still too small for the work that must be done in order to bring stories to life. I know so many creatives whose work has defined my world, and who now I have the privilege of calling my friends, and there’s still too much settling that goes on for all of us.

We’re really good at working with limited resources, but I also think we need to learn how to ask for the resources that we need, how to identify new pathways to those resources, how to leverage the tools that are around us to move rapidly to collapse time, and how to democratise this expansion through the sharing of our knowledge.

When we’re siloed, which often happens in creative work, we don’t gain the benefit of learning from someone else’s workflows or protocols or the way that they’ve overcome a roadblock. In Fruitful Muse, we’re building a community where we’re not only going to be equipping, workshopping, activating, and applying, but we’re also going to benefit from those shared experiences in a way that creates greater equity for creatives both within our community and for those who our work is contributing to building pathways for.

I want people who are doing creative work to sleep really well at night because their needs are met. We’re helping them to meet them. 

Something you've already learnt while building Fruitful Muse?

It’s ok that I’m someone who leans into the big picture. I don’t need to punish myself for thinking about the future. Working alongside other people who are so strong in their areas of expertise is such a gift. It allows us all to move more rapidly and iteratively. We don’t need to be perfect in order to be present and to be contributing. Learning how to embody that lean methodology and to be iterating, building, and gathering feedback has been so valuable for us.

Where we'll find you on a weekend?

They’re all a little different, to be honest. Right now I’m in production on a project that’s needed some weekend days, so my weekends are holding work, which is an interesting experience when you’re looking at those overall balances. Otherwise, I love getting to know more of the city that we’re in. We’re constantly hunting down food, music, new spaces, turning it over and looking at it from different perspectives. 

We’ll mix up evenings where we’re out in the hubbub with quieter evenings. Sometimes we’re at home with friends and often that looks like swapping stories and ridiculousness until the wee hours of the morning. It’s also common for us to have visitors from interstate down for a few days of exploration. The weekends have become a place where I’m working on what it means to be nourished, and I’m really excited about that… even while it’s an imperfect art.

Where we'll find you on a weekday?

At my office at home. At my office at The Commons, grateful for the creative work of others to build spaces where more of it can take place. Walking the block with my dog, ranting to a voice note - either expanding on an idea with myself, or sending thoughts to a friend. If I’m really in the funk, one of my favourite places to work is the State Library of Victoria. And lately, fingers crossed, enjoying one of the many yoga or barre studios around where we live, wondering how TF the people around me are keeping their brains on the mat. 

Where can we find you online?

My personal Instagram is @daniellejoy. My production company, Contra Stories. LinkedIn (wow, that feels a little… confrontingly corporate to acknowledge). And in the Fruitful Muse world!

How do you describe the work you do?

I’m a creative producer. My job is to create environments, pathways, resources, processes, and safety to support the creatives I’m working with, enabling us to make the stories we’re dreaming of. I’m a particular kind of producer who brings a personal lens into these stories, carrying a perspective of my own - if you want a producer who’s just going to talk call sheets and money, I’m not your girl. If you want someone who’s going to get into the weeds with you about what this means, why this matters, and why this story is one that’s worth us resourcing in order to invite others into it, in order for it to become a sum bigger than its parts - that’s where we’ll cross paths with a familiar nod to each other on the way. 

Is it the work you dream of doing?

Yes. I’ve dreamed of being a filmmaker since I was a kid, and have a thankfully-buried trove of home movies as receipts. I only realised that the role of the producer captured so much of my pragmatic and creative love in one dualistic, challenging form at film school, but then, I found my home. To have the space within Fruitful Muse to bring those learnings and experiences drawn from working alongside many different creatives in my industry - it’s a thrill to be able to transform that into a resource space, one that allows us to grow, experiment, and improve together. I’m not satisfied with only making individual pieces of work. I’m satisfied with making better environments for our work to take place within. 

What's the process looked like to get to do it?

I have a little bit of a different career path than some of my peers. I started in film distribution right out of high school. My father has a film distribution company, and that meant that throughout my teens, I’d often travel with him across Australia and internationally, getting glimpses of his work. I’d sit in meetings and conversations that very quickly took the glamour off of the film world, showing me the practicalities and setting a very clear example of the two parts of it - film AND business - at a young age. That background has really defined a lot of the way that I operate in my work today and it’s one I’m very grateful for.

I have a Bachelor degree and a Master’s degree in the area of film studies, where I looked at alternative business models and pathways towards IP enhancement as a part of my postgraduate studies. I also taught at my university, the Griffith Film School, for seven years, lecturing and convening in the areas of screen distribution, producing, business and more. This experience in the academic space taught me a lot about investigating the why behind how we do our work, and it’s also made me a better producer through a heightened sense of interconnectivity. 

I’ve also studied at the Compton School in the area of creative business, led by the niggle that the medium itself isn’t the end goal. 

It’s far too long a story to delve into the winding process of building a career as a producer - but it involves the absolute highs and the absolute lows you’d imagine, and we’re far from done yet. 

What's a creative dream that's yet to be fulfilled?

I don’t know how this one will ever fit in, but I have this… I guess not entirely secret passion about the importance of financial equity for creative practitioners. I’d love to build a fund that pairs business and creativity together to open up new pathways, protocols, and resources. The idea also sounds exhausting. I’ll give it a decade or so.

What do you wish we all knew about creative work

You don’t have to be the creative It Girl to enter into the gates. I think inherently when you work in a creative industry, you can also work in an industry that is preoccupied by branding, by image, by status. And that can make a lot of people feel other, like their voice isn’t welcome in that space - but creative work is so much bigger than we give it credit for.

I get immensely sad by the idea that some people take themselves out of the running, thinking they’re not creative, or they’re not creative enough, or they’re not a cool creative. Creativity, for me, is about an intersection of ideas. It’s a call and response process. I think the more that we allow ourselves to make peace with those curiosities, the more fruitful it is for all of us, because we’re not qualifying our creative instincts before they’ve had a damn minute to breathe.

What's on your office walls/desk/bedside table?

We moved into this house a few months ago and are still slowly making ourselves at home here. I’m also a floater - I’ll work in three different places throughout the day. In my office, there’s notes about the things I’m currently working on (looking at you, object permanence challenges). There are photos from the desert and from the sand and from the city with family and friends. There’s snaps from the home we lived in just before we moved here, one that we loved, and that ultimately served its purpose with such beauty. There’s a photo from my favourite bar here in Melbourne on its karaoke night, drenched in its purple and pink velvet neon. Making its way onto the wall soon is a print from one of my favourite artists, and humans, in the world, Brandi Hughes. There’s a gift from my family of Whitney Spicer’s Sunday Smoko piece that captures my love for Australiana without indulging too much of it against my husband’s wishes. There’s a photo of my grandparents at an iconic Australian lighthouse, where my grandmother looks every inch a woman of mystery, not the mother, wife, grandmother I knew her to be. I like to pause and catch her gaze every so often. There’s Bob Dylan’s scribbled lyrics to Like A Rolling Stone, all crossed-out cacophonies working their way into a revised and revised-again form. There’s a scrap sketch of a woman that I saved from the bin of a gallery in Montmartre, paying just a few Euros for the piece the artist said was just a draft. I love a good old draft, probably more than I do a perfect finished product. They’re good reminders to honour the process. 

What's one conversation you look forward to having in the community?

Really, what do you need? Let’s strip away all of the things you think you need to make this work, and let’s take the next tiny step. How can we build momentum? By getting you just out of your comfort zone. Just beyond the break.

I think we overcomplicate these things. We think we need to have a game plan sometimes to do even the first step - but once we get the ball rolling, so much can happen. You’ll meet people you didn’t know could be conjured, you’ll stumble into opportunity, you’ll spot open doors in the world. None of that can be reached from behind the comfort of your untouched keyboard. I’m looking forward to a little bit of provocation and a very big enthusiastic dose of support in testing the waters outside of those comfort zones. It’s the best, richest, and safest place to live, rather than the ‘safe’ lands of Certain Creative Death. 

What's the last favourite conversation you're carrying with you?

Last week I tried to awkward my way out of a very lovely, very overwhelming compliment from somebody I respected and when I squirmed while relaying the conversation to Jono, he firmly lectured me with a ‘no, don’t bippity boppity your way out of this one.’ It made me laugh so much because I realised a. How much I do try and bippity boppity my way out of things in life that I’d prefer to avoid and b. Just how much I needed to add that descriptor to my vernacular. 

Bonus: in the same week, in a group chat with some of my siblings, hearing about how the 28yo had to keep instructing the 23yo to return to Bunnings to pick up the things she needed to build a table for her new home. The 23yo would return with burritos, rather than the items she went for, only to have to turn around and make the same trip again. The kid’s got a mortgage and yet can’t complete a shopping list and I love the shit out of her for it. (For the Aussies in the chat, Bunnings also happens to sit right next to a very compelling GYG so it’s hardly her fault.) 

How do you want to sign this off?

This is cheesy, but I feel the need to remind us that we don’t know when our world is about to change.

Just a few months ago, I didn’t know Brittany Marie and Cristel. My world is now all the better for knowing them and for the privilege of working alongside them. It's something that I was deeply desiring and has created the resources I needed to take that desire to the next stage of growth.

The more open we can be to looking for goodness, for connection, for whatever you want to call it - luck, magic, fate, coincidence - the more likely we are to find it. So get hungry. Get greedy. Get looking. Keep those eyes firmly wide open, looking for the glint on the horizon.