People love to say it.

“You don’t need that camera, use what you have.”
“You don’t need all that, just start where you are”

I say,

F*** it, get the camera!
No Fund.

Hello and hi, welcome to my crazy corner of the internet. What a nice inbox you have. Why so full? I hope i’m not in spam…

If you are new here, welcome to The Stack. This is a 75 day practice where I show up every day and make something honest, small and real. It is a column about creativity, ideas, and the messy art of getting started again, because I am convinced that compounding does more than planning. If you have been reading along, thank you for coming back. You are part of why I keep writing.

Let’s begin.

I’ve recently been reflecting on some years of advice I received early in my creative journey, and in looking back, although well intended, I found that for nearly 8 years, I just never took myself seriously enough to fully get behind my ideas— to fund them like a true investor.

Trust me I know the script, and I can’t lie,It sounds humble, noble and pure. But I’ve also found that, when repeated without nuance, it can quietly kill momentum. Because here’s the part that no one admits loudly:

Sometimes wanting the better thing is what gets you moving with the not so great thing. And when we dismiss the thing we are genuinely excited about, we often starve ourselves of one of the most useful fuels for momentum: inspiration.

We gently abandon the thing we have a true and honest desire for, and before we know it, we’v trapped ourselves in limiting beliefs. And here’s the thing i’ve learning. At some point you have to fund the version of yourself you keep dreaming about.

Not recklessly.
Not in a way that hurts you.
But in a way that says,
“I take my becoming seriously.”

Think about it, we invest in everything else. We buy outfits to feel confident, food tom comfort ourselves, tickets to be distracted, we do it all. But suddenly when it comes to our own ideas, we suddenly get wise?

We call it caution, I call it fear in a borrowed coat.
It’s cowardly.

Listen if something in you is asking you to grow, you should eventually put something behind it. And yes that’s more time, but sometimes it’s your money, which often reveals your genuine beliefs.

For once, let your life spell out the sentence that screams: I’m not waiting for permission.

You need to find a way to tell your brain “i’m not playing, i’m building”

So if there’s a camera you’ve been hovering over, or a tool or lut or subscription, then do it for now. Test how you feel when you invest, and see what you can achieve with more.

Yes there’s a cost, but it’s a cheaper bill than regret (or delay).

The £2,000 Risk That Made Me Rich.

In 2020, I did something wild.
I blew over £2,000 on my dream camera.

I had saved half of it over nine months, slowly, quietly, with that itchy kind of hunger that tells you you’re ready to grow. I looked at the clients I had at the time and realised something hard but honest: my stories were strong, my delivery was solid, but my quality had hit its ceiling.

If I wanted to step into higher rooms, my work had to look like it belonged there.

So I went searching.

I looked for credit options, repayment plans, anything that could give me a short-term runway. I was already charging more than before, but I knew that with a new camera and a 12-month window to repay, I could raise my rates immediately and recover the cost long before the year ended.

So I did the maths and took myself seriously.

Over 12 months, I needed at least £1,000 back.
So If I charged £500 a booking, all I needed were two bookings.
If I priced at £250, I needed four.

Suddenly the dream felt measurable.
Achievable.
Logical, even.

I drew out the numbers, found a PayPal Credit programme that, by divine timing, had just launched. I applied, then I waited.

And then boom.
Approved for £2.5k.
The door opened.

I split the first £1,000 across six months of repayments, knowing that I won’t have to worry about these first few months, then I dedicated that time to sales, output and positioning. My mission became simple: raise capital by raising value.

Before I knew it, I wasn’t just a videographer anymore. I was building a business, solving problems for clients, yes, but now for myself.

It was a risk. A big one.
But it worked.

And in the middle of it all, a truth landed on me with full weight:

An asset placed in an environment of opportunity will always return profit. But if your perceived value stays cheap, your ceiling stays low.

Truth is, you can only charge what your quality allows, and can only rise where your work can go. And that camera? Yeah, It raised my playing field.

I now could say yes to projects I used to decline.
I now could walk into rooms I used to watch from the outside.
I now could do better work whilst convince fewer people to pay me more.

That was the moment entrepreneurship clicked.
Not the theory.
Not the podcasts.
Not the “one day I’ll start.”

The risk taught me, I’m a hustler.
The investment matured me, into a true player.
And the movement shaped me into a dangerous competitor.

So hear me clearly:
I’m not your financial adviser.
But I am someone who knows what it means to deny denial, confront fear, and take a calculated risk on yourself.

So F*** it.

Sometimes the ceiling is not money, or gear, or timing.
Sometimes it’s just the lie you told yourself about what you “don’t need.”

So fund it bro.
Get the camera, or whatever your version of the camera is.
And move on.

Now close this page, and send the email you’ve talked yourself out of.
Write the outline you’ve rehearsed in your head.
And act in the direction you want.

After all bridges were built when cars needed to move into new terrains. Ayy, your bridge is needed now. Do it you saucy minx.

I’ll see you tomorrow.
J

✳️ The Stack.

Part of the 75-Day Stack Challenge, essays for builders, makers, and doers, finding their start again.

Written by Josiah Hyacinth, creator, strategist, and storyteller exploring the intersection of faith, creativity, and action. Follow along as we unpack what it means to build, become, and begin again.