Chick who makes flicks

for Lisa Larsen, who asked

First off, people don't take me very seriously. Part of it is because I don't look the part. I'm old, fat, and tired. I have a foul mouth and good hair. I have the patience of a saint, if we're talking about a very impatient saint. I can go from zero to pissed off in 2.3 seconds. I don't like to hang out and talk about gear when I'm working.

When I'm not working, though, I love to talk about gear. And read about it. And write about it. My girlfriend refers to all of my equipment as "bendercracky." My cameras, mics, mixers, flags, lights, soldering irons, etc. are all bendercracky. And I am a bendercrackhead. Translation: Know your gear backward and forward.

Spend time learning the technical stuff because when things go wrong, you are going to have to improvise. If you know how things work, you may not have to whip out your wallet to get them to work right. Learn how to solder. And how to swear. If you can't fix it by soldering, you can swear at it.

Not being taken seriously has its ups and downs. Up is that I can get into places I wouldn't normally be able to get into. Down is that I often have rental techs talking to me v-e-r-y s-l-o-w-l-y. Still, I have noticed that pity can often get you a lower price. And sometimes I'll meet some old, fat, and tired rental guy who digs me because I can talk DIP switches and ICs and all that crap who will throw something cool into my rental kit just because.

Hauling equipment is exhausting. I do things to combat this: I bring a pal along (my friend Matt is my go-to guy) and I pay him or her. I don't pretend to be all butch and carry heavy stuff---wheels are my friend. So are elevators. And I'm working on this new lighting system that's considerably lighter in weight than an Arri or Kino-Flo kit. Translation: work smart instead of butch. If you can light using one 350 and a reflector, do it.

Stand by your vision. The hardest, not because people will tell you to do something else (which they will, but unless you trust 'em, ignore 'em). It's because you get tired. And especially when you work alone, you wonder if it's really going to matter because you don't have anyone looking at you saying, "But that would be so cool."

Working alone is a wilderness and baby, the void looks into you. You'll have three o'clock-in-the-mornings wondering what the hell you're doing. You scratch out a life in obscurity, trying desperately to tell the stories you have to tell and on those long night all of your doubts will rattle the windows and seem bigger than anything you could imagine. But you have to embrace and love doubt the way you have to embrace and love faith. Because doubt is part of who you are and teaches you to recognize the perfect moment, not just on camera but in life.

I tell stories I have to tell. I tell them the way I have to tell them (and the method is the medium is the message). Disappointment is as faithful as a dog. I make little money. I'm unknown. I wouldn't trade it for anything.