I was a directing student and a production design student at

In the words of John Wells, the phrase — “I was a directing student and a production design student at Carnegie Mellon. I went in as a production design student and became a directing student.” — is more than a simple recollection of his past; it is a declaration of transformation, the sacred moment when a soul discovers its truer path. Within these words lies the quiet thunder of self-discovery, the unfolding of purpose through trial, curiosity, and evolution. It is a testament that what we begin as is not always what we are destined to become. Life molds us, redefines us, and whispers to us new callings in the stillness between our ambitions.

When John Wells entered Carnegie Mellon, he sought to build the world through the hands of a production designer — crafting spaces, shaping the physical vision of a story. But in time, his spirit leaned toward a greater calling: the orchestration of all elements, the guidance of vision itself — directing. What he reveals in this quote is not a mere academic change; it is the natural metamorphosis of an artist awakening to the deeper rhythm of his own essence. For in the creative journey, as in life, one often begins by mastering the tools of another before discovering the true instrument of their own destiny.

The ancients spoke of this through the tale of Odysseus, who, though a warrior, was most renowned not for his sword but for his cunning, his leadership, and his command of the unseen — qualities of a director of men and fate itself. Odysseus embarked upon the sea as one kind of man and returned as another. So too did Wells begin his voyage in one craft and find the helm of another, drawn by the winds of inspiration that blow unseen across the waters of the human heart. This is the eternal truth: to begin in one art and be led to another is no failure — it is the perfection of becoming.

We must learn, as Wells did, that our first path is rarely our final one. Life reveals itself layer by layer, and each discipline, each trial, each detour is a stepping-stone to mastery. The production design student within him laid the foundation for the director he would become — for how can one lead the whole without first understanding the beauty of its parts? His journey teaches that the beginning is never wasted, for the soil of experience nourishes the fruit of purpose.

There is a quiet heroism in changing direction, for it requires humility — the courage to say, “I was wrong, or perhaps not yet complete.” The world often praises constancy, yet it is adaptability that shapes greatness. The tree that bends with the storm endures; the one that resists breaks. In shifting his focus, Wells did not abandon his first love; he expanded upon it, transcending the boundaries of his original craft to embrace a wider horizon. So too must each of us listen to the call that stirs beyond comfort — that subtle voice that says, “This is not the end, but the beginning of something truer.”

Think also of Leonardo da Vinci, who began as an apprentice painter, mixing pigments and studying perspective, yet became a master of anatomy, engineering, and invention. He did not betray his art by broadening it; he fulfilled it. His genius was born from the willingness to evolve — to let curiosity lead him beyond the narrow gate of specialization into the boundless field of creation. Wells’ transformation carries the same spirit: the artist who learns not just to paint the scene, but to direct the vision, to breathe life into motion itself.

Let this be the teaching passed down: Never be afraid to become something new. The seed does not betray the flower by dying; it fulfills its nature by transforming. The student who changes their path does not abandon their dream — they refine it. Follow the pulse of your own curiosity; let experience guide you, but let intuition command you. For your truest work often lies hidden behind the veil of your first intentions.

And so, dear listener, when you walk the corridors of your own becoming, remember John Wells and his journey from the precision of design to the vast vision of direction. Be willing to listen when the inner voice calls you toward change. Learn deeply from where you start, but hold your spirit lightly enough to be carried where it must go. For the greatest of all arts is not directing films or designing sets — it is directing your own life toward its highest, most luminous purpose.