We went “This Old House”-style with the look and feel. It’s not the most creative stuff I’ve ever done, but the information is compelling and the look we devised delivers the message simply and clearly. I really enjoyed my first foray into the world of green building and industries.

Below is the intro we shot, and one of the videos I liked. Check ‘em all out here.

If you want more, click on over to our Flickr set and enjoy. Have a great weekend, may the sun continue to shine on you.
01 Busted

I couldn’t wait to get a few of my favorite shots out there to all of you. Some of these are outtakes, some might make it into the commercial. We haven’t color corrected anything yet, so this is just the way it came out of the camera.

Enjoy.

TEASER: The New Reliability from 4+1 Productions on Vimeo.

CREDITS:
Director: Jacob Hinmon
DP: Travis Cline
Art Director: Megan Pugmire
Stylist/Makeup Artist: Ebel Artistry
Actors:
Adrienne Vogel
Bernadette Miller
Adam Davis
Seth Allen

01 Horchata

Have a nice weekend.

This wasn’t out of the blue. About a month ago, while trying to get her to take a nap, I gave her the basic run down on shadows and light: hard shadows, soft light, reflection, etc. She may have just been trying to stall, to delay her bedtime. I took the bait.

We talked about how the light was coming from the doorway instead of the window because it was night. We looked at the shadows the ceiling fan made. I demonstrated how the closer your hand gets to the headboard, the harder the shadow is. Then I demonstrated the same by creating a shadow on my face. She pulled her little hand under the covers and said, “Don’t make it dark on my hand.” I could see the fear in her eyes. The very real fear that darkness holds for a child.

As an adult, I don’t often consider darkness in this sense. I mean, I have a flashlight app on my iPhone.

LOST.

Anyone who has been truly lost can instantly remember the feeling. You may have felt it when I typed that word in bold just now.

Being lost and in complete darkness is not something I’ve ever experienced. I can’t relate to it at all. Which is why it is so easy to forget about lighthouses. Most of us don’t travel by sea, battle monster waves or yearn for a glimpse of light through the storm that could mean the difference between life and death. So, until we’re driving down the coast and spot one, or a sign telling us one exists, it’s easy to let them slip from our minds.

Then you turn on your blinker, park your car at the turnoff and hike it in. You walk into a world where pure darkness exists and is battled every minute. A world where brick is laid by hand and then whitewashed into place, and the steel staircase doesn’t need repairs for centuries, if ever. Where a lens manufactured in France makes its home, by way of the Panama Canal. A world where kids walk a mile through the forest each way to school, while you’re doing the most important mundane work that exists. Where constant attention must be paid to every dull detail, or lives can be lost. You bring light into darkness, direction to the disoriented; you work with your hands, and your day job means something.

If you’re lucky, you bring your a camera along. I brought my camera.

It was so good we went back the next day. Luckily, on day two I thought to take some iPhone pictures to share. So, I’ll let them do the talking, with minimal interruption from here:

The restaurant features a pretty casual layout with an industrial feel. It sits right on the bay (evidence provided below). They own two fishing boats and, as you can see from the crab photo, they catch their own local seafood daily.

Between the two nights, we ate several unbelievable appetizers: the crab soup, fish tacos, pan-fried oyster spinach salad with warm bacon dressing, frizzled onions, and crab cakes were all delicious. We had the soup and the cakes on both visits. As we ate, I envisioned a life where I lived only a few blocks away (toward the ocean of course), and rode my bike over there for a simple lunch of fish tacos and crab cakes, soaking up the sea breeze as I rambled on two wheels back to my typewriter. This is undoubtedly the ideal circumstance for me to write my opus (before directing it)—a strict diet of crab soup being a necessity, along with chunky sweaters, boat shoes without socks, and a golden doodle.

If I was forced to eat only one appetizer, I think I would choose the crab cakes. But if you go, don’t skip either the soup or the tacos. Unforgivable.

As for the entrées, we had the crab po’ boy sandwich and fish ‘n chips (it was an apostrophe extravaganza) the first night, and large coconut prawns and pan fried oysters the second night. Recommendations: crab po’ boy and pan fried oysters. Everything is delicious, but decisions must be made.

And dessert—a fresh fruit and lemon shortbread trifle:

Walking back out into the fresh night air stuffed to the gills, you might be tempted to abandon life as you know it and sign up to be a fisherman. You could live the hard life on the fishing boats, burning plenty of calories to eat like this daily. Like Benjamin Button, but without the good looks, perfect wardrobe or aging conundrum.

The view as you walk out the door won’t be what stops you from knocking on a boat and asking for a job.

We were heading to Seattle for Thanksgiving, so I brought along my new Canon 7D in the hopes I would get a chance to document my inevitable visit to The Field House.

My first impression was that the store was put together right. Some shops are cool, but uninviting. A shop that is put together right is cool, but comfortable; you aren’t checking what they’ve got hurriedly and rushing for the door or collapsing under the pressure to buy something.

So what is The Field House? It’s one part general store (this part is mostly cosmetic, it’s no Trader Joe’s), two parts cozy hub for the workwear-style attire and accessories that are such a part of the current zeitgeist. Add a dollop of solid handmade goods of yesteryear and you’ve got your recipe.

If asked to explain pictorially, I might present it this way (click on pictures to enlarge):

The Field House has the product list you would expect–Filson, Quoddy, Pendleton, Red Wings, RRL, Alden Shoes, Tellason Jeans–but the devil is in the details, and getting them right is why the store feels the way it does.

Here are the details:

As I paid for my goods (another sign of a good setup: sell stuff I can buy that won’t break my bank.  In this case locally-made soaps, the slow down card pictured above, and a Mexican Coca-Cola), I got some insight into what made this store tick. I asked John, the guy helping me, how involved he was in the setup. He mentioned that his boss, Nicole, headed up the project but as soon as he heard about it he lobbied to be a part of it. It fit his personal aesthetic.

John mentioned how exhilarating it was to put the store together–they spent a full week laying it out–and how satisfying it was when they finished up and stepped back to observe the final product.

I consider this a natural byproduct of people working on the projects they are passionate about, whether or not the economic climate tells them now is the time. It is a big risk to take on a project like this right now. The folks at Blackbird have gone out on a shaky limb and come back with something that is just the opposite. Solid.

We’re reaching the midway point of the three day event that is The New Communicators. A quick look at their website will divide you into one of two categories: 1) I don’t get what’s going on here, it seems vague. That makes me uncomfortable and I’m not interested. OR 2) I don’t exactly get what’s going on here, but I like it. Sign me up.

When I first stumbled upon their website two months ago I fell squarely into the second category. Having subsequently met Erin Kurtz, Stephen Landau and Stacy Westbrook (three of the driving forces behind The New Communicators) I’ve gathered evidence that supports the aforementioned thesis. The event description is vague (purposefully) and people react very differently to that. Whatever your initial reaction, there are some very cool things happening.

I attended the Show & Tell at Substance last night, and was happy to find that there are people out there doing great things. Money isn’t the driving force behind all action.

Or, to quote several tweets:

@dlowe93: “Ideas are worthless unless they are shared.” Wisdom from @ecopop

@jeremypair: I also liked “create opportunities to have opportunities.”

The point of this post is this: we can all get into a rut now and then. Whether it’s due to a heavy workload, unexpected changes at work, your baseball team failing when it had every opportunity to succeed, or the simple fact that fall is turning to winter and the rainy season is underway.

Sometimes I need a bit of inspiration to get myself going again. If I’m going to create epic projects, it helps to see other people out organizing events to clean rivers and fight child slavery. It helps to know they are putting their minds to creatively encouraging box reuse or creating an art magazine with underprivileged kids.

It helps to know that I won’t be going at it alone and that if I make the effort there is a community out there that is already making it happen. I’m a step behind and need to get going.

That is what The New Communicators is to me. There is still a day and a half left for you to find out what the New Communicators is to you.

Go.

I have been busy with work this month, and I’m still trying to find the balance between (paid) work and (writing a blog) work. Never fear, I will find it.

As stated in the headline, tomorrow morning I am departing for Los Angeles to watch game 2 of the National League Championship Series. That’s a baseball game between the Dodgers and the Phillies, in case you didn’t know. Starting at 1:07 I’ll be at Chavez Ravine, smiling my face off.

Special thanks to Niel for the birthday ticket to a ball game, and to Meg for unhesitatingly supporting the trip.

Have a great weekend, because I know I will.

One for the road:
Tangled Up in Blue