I just dropped a new video on my channel—an animated historical short that follows Howard Carter’s long, stubborn march toward the discovery of Tutankhamun’s tomb. 

I’ve been fascinated by Ancient Egypt for as long as I can remember. Before I knew the difference between a cartouche and a canopic jar, I knew that the desert kept secrets—and that somewhere, beneath the sand, a name could sleep for three thousand years and still whisper back when called. That feeling—mystery meeting patience—hooked me as a kid and never let go.

No story captured that magic like King Tutankhamun. The first time I read about Howard Carter peering through a small breach in a sealed doorway and seeing “wonderful things,” my imagination rewired itself. Here was real-life adventure: years of dusty work, dead ends, and dwindling funding that led—suddenly—to a moment so bright it still glows a century later. It wasn’t luck. It was will. It was scholarship plus stubbornness.

That early love of Egypt did something else to me: it forged my lifelong obsession with all things adventurer. Maps. Journals. Desert boots. Relics with stories etched into them. And yes—Indiana Jones. Indy wasn’t just movie magic; he was a permission slip to be curious, to chase threads across continents, to believe that history is alive if you treat it with courage and respect. Every time the hat brim tilts and the music swells, it taps the same part of my brain that Carter woke up—“keep going; the next chamber might change everything.”

About the video

This piece is my love letter to that feeling. It’s a compact, cinematic take on Carter’s pursuit—more mood than textbook, more heartbeat than lecture. I wanted to put you in the dust with him: the repetition of seasons, the careful notes, the doubt that crowds in when the money and patience run low. And then the turn—the hush, the careful chisel, the breath caught in the throat when ancient air moves for the first time in millennia.

I built the short to feel like an expedition diary brought to life: tactile textures, flicker-lit shadows, and a score that starts in quiet resolve and climbs toward revelation. It’s not about ticking off artifacts; it’s about the audacity to believe that a boy-king—forgotten by the world—could still be found if you refused to stop looking.

Why this story matters to me

Carter inspires me because he embodies a truth I need to be reminded of: outcomes belong to the future, but effort belongs to us. He faced skeptics, budget cliffs, and the numbing sameness of “maybe next season,” and still chose to show up with a brush and a plan. That resonates with my creative life every single day. Projects stall. Algorithms shrug. The dig site looks empty. But then—one small anomaly, one faint step cut into bedrock, and everything changes.

My affection for Ancient Egypt and my love for adventurous storytelling aren’t separate threads; they’re the same rope. The pyramids taught me patience; Indy taught me momentum. Carter taught me faith—faith that careful work plus bold belief can bend reality toward discovery.

The takeaway I’m carrying forward

When I think about what keeps me going—on videos, scripts, wild ideas that feel “too big” until they aren’t—it’s Carter’s will. Not flashy, not loud. Just relentless. He kept digging. He kept notes. He kept believing the map in his head aligned with the truth beneath his feet. That discipline—and that stubborn hope—are what I want to live by.

If that spirit means something to you too, I hope you’ll watch the video, share it with someone who needs a little archaeological courage today, and drop your thoughts in the comments. What’s your “desert”—the thing you’re patiently excavating? What “wonderful things” are you working toward?

Thanks for watching, and for digging alongside me.