1 I Don’t Know Taste, But I Know Mood Well

“What do you want to eat?”

I always hesitate for a moment when faced with this question. No matter how long I stare at the menu, I never feel certain. Since I’m not particularly sensitive to taste, I feel like anything would be fine. So I often end up answering, “Whatever.”

But it’s different when I’m dealing with content. The instinct and experience accumulated through thousands of shoots guide me at every moment of decision. I can make unwavering choices within a familiar rhythm because I have standards ingrained in my body.

“The background is too busy—let’s go with a shallow depth of field.”
“Can we remove just one prop?”
 “Let’s tighten the headroom a little.”
“That’s a good cut. Let’s try one more with this mood.”

There’s no hesitation. I react, decide, and immediately move on to the next thing. Dozens of judgments flow throughout a single day. On set, the later the decision comes, the more the timing gets thrown off and the atmosphere becomes scattered.

Where does this difference come from? I think the answer lies in having “standards” and “rhythm.” Instinct is ultimately built on repeated experience, accumulated standards, and a unique rhythm. I have no standards when it comes to food, but I do have them for content.

2 Instinct Shines Within the Flow

I remember my first time on a film set. Everything was moving much faster than I had imagined. The model was already in the first pose before the lighting was even set up, and the director was already editing the next scene in his head. I had barely spent a few seconds thinking, but the set had already moved on to the next stage.

That’s when I realized this was a space that doesn’t allow hesitation. The model needs to move to another set soon, as studios charge by the hour, and the staff must capture as many scenes as possible within the allotted time.

“Wait, let me think about this a bit more.”

These words immediately translate to cost, loss, and a signal that puts the brakes on the entire flow. The job of a content production company isn’t to make “perfect decisions” but to avoid “bad losses” as quickly as possible. What matters isn’t perfection—it’s being in a state of “flow.”

So I committed: Even if it’s not perfect, don’t waver when making decisions. Things that mental simulations can’t reveal only start to become visible after shooting the first cut. Whether the pose looks awkward, whether the lighting feels unnatural, whether the screen’s tone matches the mood, by moving, adjusting, and refining, we find the screen’s breathing and sensitivity.

Shooting quickly and making corrections often produced better results. It wasn’t failure—it was “confirmation.” It wasn’t risk—it was “progress.” Moving forward showed us more than staying still ever could.

Ultimately, what matters on set isn’t the weight of choices but the rhythm of flow. Content is like a living organism, where scenes, people, emotions, and lighting constantly influence one another. When decisions are delayed, that vitality suddenly cools down.

3 Faster Instinct Over Better Choices

People who excel at their work might not be those who make better choices, but those who move with faster instinct. The perfect answer is always visible only after it’s passed. What we need now is often an “agile response” rather than perfection.

That’s why I still try to make most decisions within 15 minutes. Whether I’m deciding on a title, choosing a thumbnail, sourcing backgrounds and casting subjects, or adjusting shooting schedules—it’s all the same. As my confidence builds that “I can make sufficient decisions with the instinct I have at this moment,” this rhythm has become my system.

Fifteen minutes is the maximum I allow myself to hesitate. Beyond that lies territory that erodes confidence. Prolonged deliberation doesn’t make judgment more precise. The initial instinct becomes clouded, and within the comfort of not choosing, plans age, and instinct grows dull.

On the other hand, decisions made within 15 minutes become rhythm in themselves, rhythm becomes instinct, instinct breeds confidence, and confidence creates execution power. Through this repeated cycle, my foundation as a planner has also grown stronger.

Choice is like a small muscle—it grows dull when not used frequently, and becomes stronger the more it’s exercised. Today, too, I make choices as if training that muscle by thinking briefly, deciding clearly, and executing without regret.

4 The Moment Intuition Emerges

“I decided by gut feeling.”

When I say this, I’m often misunderstood. It can sound like I made a careless decision without any basis.

But “intuition” in content planning isn’t some vague feeling. It’s the accumulation of countless judgments, another name for the speed that only those who have repeated failures and successes can acquire.

Though countless elements are mixed, there are moments when conviction suddenly arrives: “This is the best scene.” That conviction doesn’t fall from thin air—it emerges as “instinct” from layers of dozens of commercial cuts, failed scenes, and on-set feedback. When we say “it feels right,” countless pieces of evidence are condensed within that feeling. It’s like having an information processing system in your head that operates faster than words can express.

Of course, this kind of intuition isn’t built overnight. Intuition finally begins to function only when memories accumulate—memories of hesitation in conference rooms, endlessly revised proposals, and simulations run dozens of times in your head.

Before that point, it’s closer to “guessing” than instinct. And above all, intuition isn’t completed by sensation alone. I believe it only functions when accompanied by an attitude of taking responsibility for your choices.

So when instinct strikes, I say:

“This is right. We’re going this way. I’ll take responsibility.”

And whatever the outcome, I try to see it through to the end together. Intuition built this way, taking responsibility one decision at a time, becomes increasingly accurate and enables choices that are increasingly “authentically mine.”

5 Practicing Trust in Instinct

I still hesitate for a long time when faced with lunch menus. Maybe I always will. But that’s okay. You don’t need to be fast in every area.

Instead, there are moments when I make decisions with unusual decisiveness. In those times, instinct reacts first, and experience builds upon it—intuition honed through mistakes, the muscle of choice developed through repetition. What matters is practicing trust in that instinct.

Committing to ride the flow without hesitation in areas I know well, and to take responsibility to the end, and gradually extending that rhythm to other places. Choice is ultimately about trusting yourself. And trusting the memories and instincts I’ve built, the standards I’ve slowly refined. When that trust takes root, we no longer remain in the same place.

Today, too, I make several 15-minute decisions. Though they may seem like small, simple choices, that instinct accumulates, that rhythm continues, and eventually becomes the center that moves me.
Someday, when I look back on all those moments of judgment, I hope to be able to say, “This was definitely a path I chose.”
Days that weren’t perfect but never stopped. Within that flow, I’m still carving out my place.