Some quick thoughts on two cameras I'm pretty sure I won't be reviewing.

Will with the original Fuji 100.

This week both Fuji and Leica introduced cameras that sound sexy and cool and interesting. But the target they were aiming at when they went into development three or four years ago has evaporated; moved on. Would I like to have one or both of these cameras, along with a group of appropriate lenses? Sure, who wouldn't? But would I pay the asking price for either of them because they represent something so new and different that I feel like I have to have them? Not a chance. 

Let's start with Leica's offering: The M10 is a continuation of the rangefinder camera style that debuted in 1954 with the M3. For about $6500 you get a basic rangefinder camera with a 24 megapixel sensor, the option to add an EVF after the fact, and battery life for 210 photographs. Your basic 50mm lens will cost you another $2200. For $8700 you can go out and shoot kinda like Henri Cartier Bresson. While the lenses are probably the best one can get you are paying an awful premium to achieve that last 1.052% of potential image quality. (I say "potential" because you'll need to make sure your rangefinder is correctly calibrated and that your basic handling skills are enough to put the camera and lens in a position to excel). It's basically a camera designed to be handheld with lenses, the real value, can only be realized with the system locked down on a tripod. 

I shot with the Leica film rangefinders for decades but they were affordable and amply available used. Leica's new idea of pricing is aimed squarely at a lux market that most working photographers are not part of. If I bought an M10 and a trio of useful lenses I would still have a hard time using this system for the work I do most of the time. The longer and faster the lens you need the less optimal the system becomes. It's a camera for people who are either without the operating constraints of clients or for photographers who do a kind of art that is specific. My hat is off to the second species for finding a paying market for doing exactly what they love. 

It's funny. I write this blog as a peek into my life as a working photographer. I don't write from the presumption that my readers are doctors, lawyers and captains of industry (although I know that some are). With this being the case it seems a bit hypocritical of me to join the parade and promote cameras like this, knowing that the vast majority of my readers, and certainly the majority or working professionals, would have no interest in buying one of these cameras. It's almost like buying into mercantile conspiracy to push a market that has no logic of its own.

I have a fantasy that, when I stop paying for college tuition and expenses, sell my Austin home at an extreme profit and finally retire, that I will buy a camera like this along with one perfect lens and spend the rest of my life traveling the world taking glorious images that no one else could match. But doesn't that play right into the worm of feeling inadequate in my own skills/vision and hoping the "magic" equipment (or locations, etc.) will make me a better artist? That way lies madness......and lots of cameras bought and sold. 

At any rate, much as I like the design of the M3, as represented for the nth time in the M10. I'll take a pass on buying or reviewing this product because I could never justify the expense or the return. What was supremely useful in the film days has lost most of its relevance in the present.

Now the Fuji GFX is a slightly more alluring enticement of a camera. Behind all the advertising and marketing is the implicit message that this camera is, de facto, medium format and brings along with it all that conveys. The idea that you'll immediately see big differences in making depth of field razor thin. The suggested promise that the "massive" sensor will provide a much richer level of color and detail and so much more. But again, how true is any of this? 

While the price of the Fuji GFX is about as good as we've seen (in terms of affordablity) for a "medium format" camera I would suggest that it's just another rangefinder style, digital camera with a slightly bigger sensor (in geometric terms) but with only scant bit more resolution and perhaps color and tonality that's already being delivered by 35mm styled cameras like the Nikon D810, the Canon 5DSR and the (amazing) Sony A7Rii. 

I think Fuji will find a fair market amongst those who don't do math well or who really believe there is something magical about a Sony sensor that's just a little bigger than other Sony sensors from the same technology generation. The dimensions of the sensor are barely larger than the 24 x 36mm size of full frame sensors and the range of current lenses is....interesing in its banality.

Perhaps Fuji is reconstituting their introduction philosophy along the lines they pursued with the X-Pro_1. Create a visually covet-worthy camera with great specs and then spend the ensuing years iterating lower and lower priced versions that get better and better (performance wise) with time. So, maybe in a year and a half we'll see the GFX-10 and it will have the same sensor, minus a few features and sell for $4995. Then we'll see the GFX-20 and it will also be a nice, step down model but with an even more attractive price.

The reality is that both of these cameras will likely be good performers and there will be a (smallish) market for them. But equally, if the only difference for the Fuji is the incremental increase in sensor size, and the only difference from Leica is the promise of simple elegance and potential good imaging, I think most people will quickly understand the skewed value propositions presented and continue buying from their current brands of choice. And I think that would be a smart move. We're moving out of an era when we were happily obsessed with our hobby and into a more complex environment for arts producers. And environment that requires constant learning and re-figuring. Getting locked into the specification paradigm of a past nostalgia can be counter-productive. Both for the mind and the wallet. 

You get a lot less wear out of an expensive tuxedo that you do from a basic business suit. 

Circling back to the Leica for a second... I just flashed on why I loved the film ones so much and never warmed up to the digital Ms. It's because the mechanical bodies promised the ability to shoot anywhere at any time without ever having to worry about being sidelined by a dead battery. It's the switch from mechanical to electronic that sucked the magic out of Leica Ms for me. Never really got that before. Funny what you think about when the world changes... It was all about the self reliance of the camera. 

210 exposures? Anxiety in the middle of an event....

Firing a bad client and then spending a quiet afternoon photographing a few interiors at Zach Theatre. The RX10iii is my all purpose camera of choice.

Being dorky and snapping a selfie in the Serra Lounge mirror.

During a typical day in the photography business I understand that I'll have to deal with Austin traffic, juggled schedules, last minute cancellations and lots and lots of problem solving. We all do that, but one thing we should not put up with is a client bent on manipulating a deal so that's it's totally in their favor and offers you little to no value. I had a potential client who booked me to shoot a future project over a month ago. At the time we agreed to a schedule and to a fee. It was a small fee. 

But nothing sucks the profit out of a job like a really bad client. Here's the first warning sign:

An interview with Vincent Hooper who is playing the role of "Stokely Carmichael" in the Zach Theatre production of, "The Great Society."

Vincent J. Hooper reflects on "The Great Society" from ZACH Theatre on Vimeo.

Vincent is an incredible stage actor and was a wonderful interview subject. I worked with Zach's P.R. person, Lauren, to ask the right questions. With good talent and a good interviewer I sometimes feel like it's enough for me just to light scenes and run the camera.

Just thought I'd share the stuff I did and referenced in this previous post: https://visualsciencelab.blogspot.com/2017/01/using-sony-a6300-to-create-video.html

We were obviously shooting a noisy location but I thought the background noise from the sirens was pretty cool.

We also did an interview with Meredith McCall, the actor who will be playing "Lady Bird" Johnson in Zach Theatre's upcoming play, "The Great Society."

Meredith McCall reflects on "The Great Society" from ZACH Theatre on Vimeo.

I love Meredith's interview but I do hear some car noise outside. I guess it's a balancing act when it comes to either stopping a good interview and trying to wait for sounds to clear or just realizing that you are on a "live" location and taking whatever comes.

We shot the interview with two of the Aputure Light Storm 1/2 lights. One through big diffusion and the other as a background wash. The camera was a Sony a6300 set to shoot 1080p. In retrospect I wish I had shot in 4K and down sampled. I've been testing the 4K capture lately and it's so nice.

Hard to get the room sounding perfect when you are faced with metal ceilings, concrete floors and metal overhead doors.... Ah....location work.

The danger of being "over-prepared."

There is a process that some of us in the business of photography go through in order to be extensively prepared for potential jobs that may be in our futures. The process consists of doing relentless, voluminous research about best practices in the genre, followed by creating lists of the gear "candidates" that are best suited for the particular projects, followed by the acquisition of the gear, followed by obsessive practice with the gear, and then, after all this work, the gear and training meet the realities of the actual job and everything just pops like a soap bubble as we come to understand that we could deliver AMAZING but that the client just has the budget and inclination for GOOD ENOUGH. 

This is not intended to be a  screed against clients, per se, but a mea culpa of our own complicity in the hallucinatory process of preparation that's fostered by the stories and fabrications of (authentic???) practitioners of our craft on the web. 

Of course, the underlying reason for the existence of the web has changed from a being a portal for the democratic dissemination of information and opinions into a giant selling bazaar, hawking everything from porn to the latest camera. The selling requires the creation of the intertwined twins, need and want. In order for you to want a new camera you need to become convinced that your existing camera (or lens, or light, or tripod, or car....) is now not sufficient to do a process that will ultimately profit you. You read "articles" about how a new product enabled some likable and jocular imagined competitor provide clients with end product (the result of using the new product) that is demonstrably superior to the product from your woefully outmatched, current product. There has to be an implicit promise that the new product will generate more happiness for you by making you more competent and more proficient. The new product should also "lift" your stature in the eyes of your clients. If you have clients...

Here's an example: We get a call requesting that we shoot some video for a product that a person wears while walking over rough terrain. The video will be of a man walking over uneven ground and going up and down hills.  We immediately go into research mode and start looking at videos, done by others, for similar products. We see lots of video of incredibly smooth and stable tracking shots (shots where the camera is following alongside the moving subject) and we dive into researching this style of tracking shot. We see videos that show this shooting method using Steadicams, Dollies with track, hand held gimbals and more. We bore down to find the best of the best scenario. In a shoot on scrambly terrain it might be the use of a Steadicam. That leads us down into a thorny thicket of options, from relatively cheap to ones a dear as a house, and we spend the time trying to find that fictive divide between budget and production value. 

Then we talk budget with our client. "So, we're pretty sure we can get a SteadiCam operator and his assistant for about $3,000 a day and use this camera package at $650 a day because according to the operator it works best on his rig... And so we'll need a camera assistant to set up the camera and that's going to set us back $1,800 and we'll need some support crew in case we need to light and also a digital tech to pull the footage off the camera wirelessly and make sure it's all okay." 

And you look over at your client because they have a curiously blank, almost fearful expression on their face and they have obviously stopped listening to what you are saying. You realize that you allowed yourself to stumble into a marketing driven rabbit hole and you were unsuccessful in pulling your client in along with you. Then the client tells you that they used to shoot this stuff with the video on their iPhones but they kinda thought it would be nice to have something a bit better, you know, if the budget isn't too crazy.  

At this point it (should) dawn on you that what they really wanted (but didn't know how to describe) was for you to put your nice camera on a tripod with a fluid head and just do a paning shot while the talent walked though parts of a nice, hilly park. And, NO, they don't want the final footage in 4K because they aren't set up for that; and NO they don't need to have you arrange for craft service because it's just going to the the three of you and there's a nice Whataburger Restaurant about a half mile from the park. 

I've been through this a number of times. It's really more about listening to the actual needs of the client before anything else. 

But it is easy to drive ourselves nuts in our mania to be "ultimately" ready for anything. I remember a conversation I had with a very good sound engineer a while back. I was trying to get him to tell me exactly what wireless microphones I should get to do my video work with. He asked me what my primary use would be. I told him that I mostly do single person interviews in corporate locations or in the studio. He told me I'd get better sound with a nice supercardioid (shotgun) microphone. I told him "EVERYONE IS USING LAVS!!!" He thought that was a cute idea. 

I bought two sets of Sennheiser wireless microphones. About $1500 bucks worth of stuff. Then I listened to a really great video that the sound engineer had worked on. The audio was perfect. Rich and detailed but with no apparent noise at all. My wireless mics sounded flat. Like the equivalent of low dynamic range in audio. The sound I was getting was boring. 

I went back to the sound engineer and peppered him with questions. He suggested I get, and learn how to use, a decent shotgun microphone and a boom pole. I did. He was right. It sounded better to my ears but the microphone didn't sound nearly as good as his video had. He asked to see my microphone and I pulled out my shiny new Sennheiser. He asked me to show him how I used the microphone; how I placed it. How far from the talent?  

He suggested that we test it. I did it my way and then he did it his way. He got closer, he angled the microphone down a bit more towards the talent's mouth. He set his levels a bit lower. His test made the microphone sound so much better. His last shot was this: "A decent microphone, used with knowledge and skill, will sound so much better than a costly microphone in the hands of someone who doesn't know what the hell they are doing...!" And then he stared right at me until the exchange became a bit uncomfortable. 

My compulsive desire to be "ultimately" prepared for getting audio led me down the same path that we hate as photographers. It's that moment when someone looks at one of your images and asks, "What camera did you use to get that picture? It's great!"  Since most of us are "technically inclined" (gear nerds) we seem to love stuff that's wireless even when the people who make the big money in the business love stuff that's hard-wired. 

I'm not saying we shouldn't be prepared but that preparation starts with understanding the client's budget and needs and not by trying to be prepared to shoot the next Star Wars episode. There's a range. It's good to know where in the range your project falls and then to make it successful given your time and budget. If the camera is the magic bullet in the equation then I would say you are already starting behind the eight ball.

The bottom line is that the need that creates "over preparation" probably comes from some feeling of technical inadequacy. We're trying to compensate for our imagined (or real) shortcomings by buying our way through a job. In fact, in most cases, the gear is secondary to the skill set. 

Who needs really great gear? The guys who already know what they are doing and are doing at such a high level that the difference between a $5,000 tripod head and a $12,000 tripod head makes their job even better. I'm not there yet. Not by a long shot....

The importance of "B-roll" in video production. A hard lesson for me.

super A.D., Ben, grabs for all the "B-Roll" he can find!

The hardest thing of all in creating good video is not getting the color right or the footage sharp. Some would say the hardest part is always getting good sound. But for me the hardest part of the process is the edit. And the stumbling block for me is that I have a hard time understanding the vital importance (in the edit phase) of having lots of great "B-roll" to choose from. 

First of all, What the Hell is B-roll? Most of the video work I do involves shooting interviews. The interviews can be about new products, new processes or about something that the interviewee has done that is interesting. My somewhat linear mindset leads me to want to shoot the interview the same way I'd shoot a photographic portrait. My brain was programmed by years of still photography to compose a very nice frame, get my lighting as close to perfect as I can and to pay attention to the main event; the actual interview. 

But if you are creating video that's watchable you need to understand that having a person stare into (or near) the camera lens and talk can get pretty boring pretty quickly. Also, since we seem to be culturally evolving into a new species that learns almost exclusively by seeing, we need on screen images of the things our interviewee is talking about for the audience to better understand the content. Finally, we need scenes and associated imagery to cut away to in the event that we need to make an edit to the primary footage. After all, the way video works best is to get your audience into the story. Technical glitches are a quick way to pull them right back out of your story and move on to something else. 

In the video Ben and I are currently on for a healthcare client we have an interviewee who gave us a tremendous interview session. The technical problem is that she said great stuff but it was spread across different clips. We wanted to piece one very tight and coherent program out of these little gems of content but every time you make a cut from one clip to another there is a jarring difference in the overall continuity. The person's body might be in a different posture, hands in a different place, even the expression might be much different (if the light or sound is different; that's on you!). 

So, when we want to join different clips we need something else to cut away to to keep the audience from seeing the obvious visual hiccups. That's the primary role of B-roll. It is footage that gets inserted into your program either to show something that relates to what your narrator or interviewee is saying or to provide a way to disguise cuts between clips. The best situation is that B-roll will do both. 

Since my brain seems hard-wired to go straight for the obvious I end up running the "A" camera in most projects. I have a good, linear idea of the overall outline of the project and I'm off and running from point "A" to point "B". I'm busy following the map. But I am not incapable of learning. In solo projects I set up a second camera to run during interviews which gives me a different point of view to use in my edits and I try my best (with a meticulous shot list) to get as much footage that is relevant as I can. But if push comes to shove it's the direct interview that always takes precedence. 

Recently I was beaten over the head with just how useful and necessary good B-roll could be. My assistant director on our healthcare video project spent the shooting day with a Sony RX10iii camera in his hands. We set both the primary shooting camera and his camera to the same codec, the same white balance and fps to give us a fighting chance at mixing the footage in the edit. 

Everything I shot the A.D also shot, but from a different angle and different magnifications. He also shot details and close-ups and reverse angles. In all, he shot about twice as many clips as I did but, in my defense, my camera was running all the time on interviews...

When we got back to the studio my A.D. started editing the footage based on the outline we created. We had just done a Lynda.com refresher course to learn what was new in Final Cut Pro X 10.3 and were both excited to try using the "flow" transition tool to cut together the interview (which would serve as a primary narration track) from the jigsaw box full of clips we had at hand. The flow tool is a great transition tool where audio is involved. It seems to understand that we're piecing together two different clips of audio and automatically makes the transitions almost (audibly) invisible. 

As you may guess we had dozens and dozens of clips butted together and while the audio was more or less seamless the visual cuts were obvious. That's when my A.D. started diving into his treasure chest full of B-roll. Stuff I never thought about came out. A super close up of a stream of fresh, hot coffee filling up a coffee carafe in the kitchen. An ethereal shot of a bowl of lemons. Numerous shots of the products shot in an artsy way with a moving, handheld camera. Lots of angles of our main talent athletically piloting her wheel chair in a park, at a lake, at a restaurant, getting in and out of her car, having a meeting, etc., etc. 

He seemed to have the perfect cutaway shot for every contingency and I marveled as the project grew from a barebones documentation to a full blown, visual narrative. Video is so much richer with images that bolster the "main" footage.

Since my current A.D. is "on loan" from his college I'll be looking for a new assistant director/editor to work with in February. First on my list of question for them will be, "tell me your ideas about shooting B-roll..."

It's good to figure out where my blindspots are so I can work on them. From now until it becomes second nature I'll be carrying a "B-roll" shot list with me on every assignment. Yikes. So much harder than the camera work. At least for me.

Always learning.

Learn the plan. Execute to the plan. Then make a new plan.

I think there are two kinds of workers in the world. There are those that want to master the process in front of them and then keep doing the same process over and over again as long as they get a paycheck. The idea of learning new things seems threatening and difficult and is to be avoided. Then there are workers who become restless after mastering one craft and are ready to move on and learn new things all the time. Many people are incremental learners while a different group are explorers who benefit from frequent flashes of satori and then move off to try something completely new. 

From an economic point of view it would seem that people who avoid new tasks and new training would have a financial advantage because they have attained (for the moment) a tested mastery which is efficient in its regular application. It's a tested process; all that remains is to frequently activate the process and monitor it. The downfall of this approach to working life is what generally happens during periods of technological disruption. The process (and the worker) become unnecessary and retraining must occur if the paychecks are to continue. 

The slower, or more reticent a person is to embrace new training the less financially stable they become. For the second group, the people who would rather starve than do the same process over and over again are experts in retraining because they do it constantly. 

I've watched so many disruptions to the imaging business in the last twenty years. First was the move toward digital imaging and away from film. I heard countless people, who had mastered the basic steps of shooting with film, renounce digital and maintain the use of film in their businesses long after the writing was on the wall and the need to transition was obvious to everyone else. The slow to adapt perished, financially. It happened with post processing. It happened in transitions from early cameras to more capable cameras, and it's happening again as demand for video eclipses falling demand for producing photography as a commercial business.  It happened to specialized studio car photographers who saw their talents superseded by CAD experts who could take a digital wireframe and "skin" it in any flavor, color and texture. Voila, instant car... Those graphics suppliers are thriving because they've mastered a process that emerged from a previous,  disrupted discipline. 

This is scary if you were fixed on the idea that you would learn how to pose people and how to use a still camera the same way over and over and over again, getting exactly the same results and billing the same amount of money each time. Especially scary when the market for what it is you have learned to do begins an accelerating decline. It's like passing out from blood loss. By the time you realize you are losing consciousness from blood loss it is likely too late for you to put pressure on your own wound and take other lifesaving actions. The people who survive are the ones who take immediate action. Better yet, survival is most probable, at least in our industry, for the people who constantly look to the future and prepare. And continually learn.

About two years ago I looked at the general advertising and business marketplaces and did some research. Fees for photography were stagnant and demand for most photographers working in the commercial markets was down. On the other hand video had surpassed still imaging (by a good margin) on the internet and was becoming more of a mainstream advertising and marketing tool for companies large and small. On and off the internet.

When I looked at video from the point of view of a photographer I could see that there were things I could bring to the process that were desirable. I have vast experience lighting with all sorts of tools, including the constant light sources required by video. I have spent a good portion of my working life directing people who end up in front of my cameras for one reason or another. I was pretty sure the ability to direct people, and to build a rapport with them, would also be a worthwhile skill in the video production business. 

My weak spots were the nuts and bolts of audio, the aesthetics of making the camera move, or making the people in front of my camera move, and in the editing. While I love to tell stories I needed to learn how to tie visuals together, from idea to idea, in a way that would not take people attention away from the story. Finally, I needed to learn the toughest lesson for most photographers: that we are not trying to make one achingly beautiful image we are trying to tell a whole story in a believable way. And that has been the hardest thing for me to learn. 

At some point in the late Fall last year I started to set out some goals and guiding concepts for my work in 2017. I had experienced success in putting together large and small video projects in 2016 but I could see that I would have to commit to learning more and delivering more expertise if I wanted to grow the video side of my business this year. My goal for 2017 is to have 50% of my business income derive from producing video for clients. That's a big change for someone who has depended on only still photography income to provide for everything in the family budget. At times I feel like I'm walking into a long dark hall...

So, how do I retrain? I try to learn all the time. I've read dozens of books on audio and video production. I've worked through books on scriptwriting and editing and, after every bit of new knowledge comes my way I grab a camera and a microphone and practice what I've learned with a camera in my hand. I find that I have to try each step for myself and internalize it before I can really understand it. In down time, like waiting for the next person to come into the Acme conference room for a portrait, I write small scripts and map out related visuals.

My best sources for much about making good video comes from the online learning resource, Lynda.com. The depth of information about Final Cut Pro X alone was worth a year's subscription. Watching Anthony Artis hook up a mixer to his video camera and set the controls was perfect. The tutorials on composition made me re-think much of what I do as a still photographer. 

While I've spent hundreds of hours reading, watching and learning, the one black hole in the process is watching the "free" channels on Youtube and on various websites, about video. On almost every site the content is nothing more than an endless stream of product reviews. If you allow yourself to get stuck in the review sites you'll waste massive amounts of time learning about new gear and fueling your addictive desire for the latest and greatest stuff. And that sucks away the time you need to spend actually learning the basic processes and concepts. You'll become an expert in the various camera and microphone models available with little practical knowledge beyond how to turn the units on. 

I've worked hard to stay away from the gear review sites and it's paid off for me as the owner of a photography business. The last camera that I bought was a Sony RX10iii some nine or ten months ago and I slowed down my "need" to learn about new products to the point where I have bought, in 2016, and now own, far fewer cameras than I have since the days of film. It's liberating because instead of learning that the new "miracle" camera has 2 Db less noise at ISO 1250 than last year's miracle camera I am learning where and when to point the camera I have at the right subjects and to meld them together nicely in post. 

If I were to recommend a strategy to someone who wanted to learn how to shoot good video I'd tell them to put off buying anything until they read a book about writing a script. And then I'd have them watch a series of tutorials on editing. Then I would have them read Blain Brown's book on Cinematography. Only then would I suggest that they buy (or borrow) some gear and get to work on their practice. Because, forearmed with intent and basic knowledge, they would understand what it was the gear would help them to accomplish. Too often the gear is just an unused trophy. A monument to one's purchasing power and credit scores. 

Here is a lesson. Pick up your favorite video camera, zoom the lens to about the equivalent focal length of 50mm, point it at something or someone and record, handheld, for 30 seconds. Just 30 seconds. Then look at the results on a 60 inch television. Now you understand why you need a tripod. A good tripod. 

Here is a lesson. Take your camera to a crowded park, a food court at a mall, a busy coffee shop. Bring along a friend then turn on your camera and interview them in one of these environments, using the built-in microphones in your camera. Take everything home and listen to the resulting audio on a good pair of headphones. Congratulations! You now understand why you need more flexible microphone solutions. 

Here is a lesson. Go out without a script and shoot some pretty video. What ever catches your eye. Go home and watch it from beginning to end. Oh Boy!!! You just realized why a script is so important...

In each case the learning experience has nothing to do with the need for better gear, sometimes just the right gear. Or the right planning. Or the right subject matter. 

Here are some things I learned this week: Intellectually it seems  very straight forward to stand behind a camera for two hours and document a corporate conference. You will be behind a camera that has a long zoom lens and all you really need to do is follow the corporate speakers as they amble around on the stage and talk. Oh, and you'll also need to pay attention to the sound. 

But there's the initial question of just how to compose the frame. Should you be tight or loose? How can you smoothly change direction with the speaker? At 600mm will adjusting the focus with the ring on the lens cause visible camera shake? How much headroom should I leave? 

I learned to separate the monitor physically from the camera so that I can change batteries on the monitor without effecting the camera. I was unsure of what to do when I stopped to change a monitor battery because I would be unable to keep the speaker in the frame and to follow him. My solution was to slowly zoom out to a wider shot of the stage, adequately covering all of the speaker's habitual "race track," lock the camera down, change the battery and then zoom back in slowly while picking the speaker's motion up again.  It actually worked. 

I have so much to learn but learning is so much fun. I have my first video assignment out of the country at the beginning of the next month, right after yet another video project for a tech company, and I'm already deep into research about the best way to bring in the equipment I'll need. 

The upshot of all this is that I am very excited to wake up and get to work everyday. There's just so much new stuff to think about. And it certainly seems to keep the business rocking along. No complaints from the CFO; even after dropping some serious money on new lights. It's all fun. 

Trying to be a better videographer is making me a better photographer. Let's see if trying to be a better scriptwriter makes me into a better blogger....(sigh.)