Stop somedaying your life away.
30 days. 20 scenes. Go and get a life.
Evidence of the thing you actually did instead of sending it to your friend saying, "WE SHOULD DO THIS."
Evidence of the thing you actually did instead of sending it to your friend saying, "WE SHOULD DO THIS."
You know the message...
Someone sends the weird restaurant.
The ridiculous class.
The cheap flight.
The event you'd never normally go to.
The thing you've secretly wanted to try for three years.
"WE SHOULD DO THIS."
And then you don't.
Make A Scene is the month where you actually fucking do it.
For 30 days, you'll choose from a giant menu of Scenes designed to interfere with normal life.
You'll go places. Talk to people. Ask for things.
Try things. Wear things. Enter things.
Get rejected. Get surprised.
Occasionally wonder what possessed you.
Some Scenes will take ten minutes. Some might eat your Saturday. Some you'll immediately want to do.
Some you'll avoid until Friday because they make you want to crawl inside your own handbag.
Five a week. Twenty across the month.
And by the end of it, I want your camera roll to look different.
I want unfamiliar places. Screenshots you have to explain. Photos that make you laugh. People who weren't in your life a month ago. Evidence that when you said "I'd love to do that", this time you actually did.
I want someone to ask what you've been up to and for "not much" to be completely out of the question.
Starts September 28th | $297
WHEN DID LIFE GET
SO BEIGE?
Think of the last time you properly belly laughed. The kind where you couldn't breathe.
A few years ago, somebody asked me a question:
“Think of the last time you properly belly laughed. The kind where you couldn't breathe.”
And it punched me in the guts because I couldn't think of one.
I genuinely couldn't remember the last time I'd laughed like that.
My life wasn't terrible. Nothing had gone catastrophically wrong.
I was just living it on repeat. And I remember thinking:
Oh my god. I'm letting my life pass me by.
THAT QUESTION OPENED A DOOR FOR ME
BECAUSE I STARTED NOTICING ALL THE WAYS LIFE GETS SMALLER
without us ever consciously deciding to make it smaller.
And you probably didn't consciously decide to become a spectator in your own life.
It just sort of happened.
WORK.
KIDS.
BILLS.
LAUNDRY.
EMAILS.
SHOPPING.
NETFLIX.
SCROLL.
SLEEP....REPEAT.
And now we've got a device in our pocket capable of filling every spare second so we never even have to be bored enough to accidentally do something interesting.
We save the reel.
Send it to a friend.
Say “WE SHOULD DO THIS.”
And then...
don't.
We save the reel.
Send it to a friend.
Say “WE SHOULD DO THIS.”
And then...
don't.
Life has become extraordinarily good at giving us the sensation of participation without requiring us to participate.
And I think it's costing us something.
Fuck me. I actually did it.
I should probably tell you something about me.
I'm not some fearless adrenaline junkie who wakes up every morning wondering which plane I can throw myself out of.
I've wrestled with fear for most of my life.
I overthink things.
I can catastrophise with the best of them.
I've spent enormous amounts of time worrying about what people will think, what might go wrong, whether I'll embarrass myself, whether I should do the thing at all.
I am brave.
But I very rarely feel brave.
The difference is that I'm game.
I might be more willing to take a risk than the average person.
I'm the woman who put a giant close-up of her own face on a billboard in Times Square and then went to visit it like a tourist. I've walked around Manhattan in a nightgown in broad daylight just for the plot.
But I didn't arrive on earth mysteriously immune to fear.
At some point I understood something that was both incredibly annoying and incredibly freeing:
Nobody is coming to make me live my life.
Nobody can make the phone call for me.
Nobody can walk into the room for me.
Nobody can ask the question, get on the plane, go alone, risk looking stupid or do the thing I've been talking myself out of.
I can spend another six months thinking about it.
Or I can make myself move.
And I have had to make myself move over and over and over again.
That's probably the thing I understand best about courage.
You don't have to wake up one morning magically unafraid.
You have to be game enough to go while fear is still coming with you.
Confidence is just courage compounded over time.
There is no draft button on real life.
Online, you can edit yourself indefinitely.
Rewrite the caption.
Delete the comment.
Ask AI what to say.
Google what to expect.
Read 47 reviews.
Check Street View.
Research the restaurant menu before you arrive.
Rehearse the conversation.
Make absolutely sure you know what's going to happen before you go.
Real life is considerably less accommodating.
Someone says something you weren't expecting.
You have to answer.
You ask.
They say no.
You get lost.
The plan goes wrong.
Someone invites you somewhere.
You meet somebody.
You misunderstand something.
You look ridiculous.
You laugh.
You recover.
Something happens.
That's the bit that
I want back.
Participation.
Because I don't think you need another five-year bucket list.
I think you need more Tuesdays that go slightly off-script.
More reasons to leave the house.
More things you almost didn't do.
More people you wouldn't otherwise have met.
More opportunities for a completely ordinary decision to become the beginning of a bloody good story.
For 30 days, we're going to interfere with normal life.
For 30 days, we're going to interfere with normal life.
Every Sunday, a new
Make A Scene scene Board drops.
Every Sunday, a new Make A Scene scene Board drops.
You'll have more than 30 possibilities.
YOU CHOOSE FIVE.
Some are small.
Some are ridiculous.
Some might take ten minutes.
Some might eat your Saturday.
Some cost nothing.
Some might require a train ticket, a babysitter or a questionable amount of nerve.
You choose according to your life, your schedule and your edge.
Five a week. Twenty across the month.
Those are your 20 scenes.
And because simply ticking things off would be far too civilised,
there'll also be...
Surprise scenes
Optional Legendary scenes
Points, prizes, a live leaderboard
Plus a Weekly Q&A, Friday Hype Squad and a private community full of other people out there making their lives considerably harder to answer "not much" about.
The boards are doors, not a to-do list.
You decide which ones you're going to walk through.
You might accidentally get braver.
Spend a month asking instead of assuming the answer is no.
Going instead of watching.
Trying instead of rehearsing.
Walking into unfamiliar places.
Talking to people you don't know.
Doing things without knowing exactly how they're going to turn out.
Being seen occasionally looking like a tit and discovering you remain alive afterwards.
Something happens.
The no becomes less catastrophic.
Going alone becomes less weird.
Being new at something becomes less embarrassing.
You stop requiring quite so much certainty before you're willing to move.
You start collecting evidence that you can handle more than you thought.
And somewhere along the way, the person who kept saying "I'd love to do things like that" starts becoming the person whose friends ask:
Spend a month asking instead of assuming the answer is no.
Going instead of watching.
Trying instead of rehearsing.
Walking into unfamiliar places.
Talking to people you don't know.
Doing things without knowing exactly how they're going to turn out.
Being seen occasionally looking like a tit and discovering you remain alive afterwards.
Something happens.
The no becomes less catastrophic.
Going alone becomes less weird.
Being new at something becomes less embarrassing.
You stop requiring quite so much certainty before you're willing to move.
You start collecting evidence that you can handle more than you thought.
And somewhere along the way, the person who kept saying "I'd love to do things like that" starts becoming the person whose friends ask:
"How do these things keep happening to you?"
Have the more interesting life.
Let bravery catch up.
"Gin, I have a job / children / no money / no car / responsibilities / an actual life."
"Gin, I have a job / children / no money / no car / responsibilities / an actual life."
Good.
Because Make A Scene was designed for people with actual lives.
You get the whole week's board at once because a brilliant dare can be a terrible Tuesday dare.
There are free and cheap options. Things you can do locally. Things that take ten minutes. Things that can eat your Saturday. Things you can adapt.
And bigger adventures if you've got the time, money and appetite for them.
But here's the other thing:
This doesn't have to be separate from your life.
I'm a single mum. I do almost everything with my kids.
My adventures become their adventures. My courage becomes theirs. What I learn, they learn. The stories become family stories.
So bring your people with you.
Take the kids somewhere weird. Rope your friend into something. Turn a dare into Saturday's family adventure.
Let your partner choose where you go. Make something you were already doing slightly more interesting.
Some scenes will be yours alone.
Some will belong to all of you.
Maybe one week your scenes happen between school runs and meetings. Maybe another ends with you on a train to somewhere you've never been.
Make A Scene is supposed to happen inside your life, not compete with it.
It will still ask something of you. That's rather the point.
But you don't need to find an extra 30 hours in October or temporarily resign from your existing responsibilities in order to have a more interesting month.
WHAT YOU GET
⭐ Four weekly Make A Scene boards
More than 30 possibilities every week. Choose your five.
⭐ 20 scenes across 30 days
Twenty interruptions to normal life and twenty chances to come home with something you didn't have before.
⭐ A private Make A Scene community
For stories, photos, screenshots, ideas, encouragement and the inevitable "I cannot believe I just did that."
⭐ Weekly Q&A
For questions, adaptations, ideas and those moments when you need somebody else to help you figure out how to make something work.
⭐ Surprise + Legendary scenes
Unexpected extras and optional bigger swings for anybody who wants to turn the dial considerably further.
⭐ Points, prizes + live leaderboard
Because apparently personal growth wasn't competitive enough already.
⭐ Friday Hype Squad
Bring us the wins, disasters, stories and scenes worth making some noise about.
⭐ Live kickoff + closing celebration
We start together, finish together, crown our Leaderboard Champion and Make A Scene Editor's Choice, and find out what the hell everybody did with their month.
You choose according to your life, your schedule and your edge.
Five a week. Twenty across the month.
Those are your 20 scenes.
This is probably for you if...
There's a version of you who used to be more spontaneous than this.
You keep thinking you should get out more.
You've got an adventurous streak that's currently being wasted on sending reels to your friends.
You've got things you've been meaning to try for an embarrassingly long time.
You'd like your camera roll to contain more than screenshots, children/pets and seventeen accidental photographs of your own chin.
You want to meet people. Go places. Do things. Have stories.
You can laugh at yourself.
You're willing to hear no occasionally.
You're capable of using common sense.
And something in you is reading this thinking:
Oh wow. This sounds FUN.
Excellent.
This is probably not for you if...
You want something passive to consume quietly.
You require somebody to persuade you every time something feels uncomfortable.
You need every instruction individually tailored to you.
You want certainty about the outcome before you're willing to act.
Or you are already drafting an email asking whether Scene 17 technically counts if you complete 83% of it while facing north-east.
Please.
I beg you.
Set us both free.
MAKE A SCENE
30 days. 20 scenes.
One hell of a month.
When somebody asks what you've been up to in October, have a better answer than "not much."
Starts September 28th.
$297
FAQ
God, no. You'll have more than 30 possibilities every week and choose five. Twenty across the challenge and you've completed Make A Scene.
No. Public sharing can earn you additional leaderboard points, but you can complete Make A Scene without turning your entire life into content.
That's why you receive the whole weekly board rather than being told exactly what to do every day. Pick five that work around your actual week. Some are quick, some can become an afternoon or weekend adventure.
Only if you choose expensive options. There are free and cheap possibilities alongside scenes that might involve activities, travel or spending money. Nobody gets extra moral virtue for bankrupting themselves in the name of a leaderboard.
You don't need to. The challenge has range, including options you can do locally, digitally or adapt around your circumstances.
Absolutely, provided you're game. You don't need to become the loudest person in the room. Your edge belongs to you.
Use creative licence. Adapt it to your geography, circumstances or accessibility needs while keeping the spirit of the scene.
No. Legendary scenes are completely optional.
You can catch up. You can stack scenes together. You can submit points late. Nobody is coming round with a clipboard.
You can absolutely complete Make A Scene without sharing publicly. The leaderboard is a separate game, and public sharing earns additional points alongside Surprise and Legendary opportunities.
No.
Consider this your first Make A Scene challenge: get square with the decision to actually show up for yourself.
I'm not here to be a holding account for your indecision. Please read the page properly, make sure you actually want to do this, and then make your decision.
Once you're in, you're in.
(C) 2026, The Chaotic Empire