My daughter is making a documentary. A documentary. With which I am not allowed to help. She is twelve.
As I watch her pick up iMovie effortlessly (or so it seems), it's hard
not to wonder what we professional editors are going to do when all the
twelve year olds become iMovie whizzes--and beyond. And yet, as I have been watching
her, I have also been reminded that editing is not just about knowing a
program. I try not to jump in, but sometimes, I just "feel" what should
come next. I just "feel" that a shot should be shorter or longer, or
that a cut should be a dissolve, or that a moment would be more powerful
if it played out for just a few more frames.
For, you see, while you have to have the tools to edit, and know them
well enough to use them to tell your story, and troubleshoot when
there's no professional troubleshooter around, being an editor is about
more than just the tools. It's about telling a story. A story that will
move people because of how you put it together. A story that is made up
up of all those choices you made because you "felt."
And no matter how many twelve year olds become iMovie whizzes (and my
daughter may be one of them), there will always be a place for people
who know how to tell a good story in pictures--with feeling.
Wednesday, January 8, 2014
Tuesday, January 7, 2014
You Know The Day's Got To Get Better When...
You're chasing coffee beans you spilled all over the counter while trying to grind them at 5am.
You spend most of the early morning deciding if the kid who woke up with a bad head cold is okay enough to go to school or should just stay home and sleep.
Having left the sick child home, you take the well child to the school bus, only to find out that his bus route and time have been changed without you knowing, and that you have, therefore, missed the bus by ten minutes.
You spend ten minutes trying to get a cab in the rain and then hit your head--hard--on the door getting in.
After managing to get the missed-the-bus child to school in the cab, you practically drown in the torrential rain while trying to get to work.
Though you don't drown, you, and every important piece of paper in your coat pockets, arrives at work soaked.
Luckily, with a start like this, there's not anywhere to go but up. By day's end, you are dry (though the papers and coat take a little longer), the sick child is on the mend, and somehow, just somehow, you have put it all behind you and moved on. Because with a morning like that, you know the day's just got to get better.
You spend most of the early morning deciding if the kid who woke up with a bad head cold is okay enough to go to school or should just stay home and sleep.
Having left the sick child home, you take the well child to the school bus, only to find out that his bus route and time have been changed without you knowing, and that you have, therefore, missed the bus by ten minutes.
You spend ten minutes trying to get a cab in the rain and then hit your head--hard--on the door getting in.
After managing to get the missed-the-bus child to school in the cab, you practically drown in the torrential rain while trying to get to work.
Though you don't drown, you, and every important piece of paper in your coat pockets, arrives at work soaked.
Luckily, with a start like this, there's not anywhere to go but up. By day's end, you are dry (though the papers and coat take a little longer), the sick child is on the mend, and somehow, just somehow, you have put it all behind you and moved on. Because with a morning like that, you know the day's just got to get better.
Monday, January 6, 2014
Go Giving
Before the holidays, I happened upon a book called The Go-Giver. It is a
small volume, a quick read (attractive to a person like me with limited
free time!), designed, I figure, for business training. The idea behind
it is that you end up doing better in work and life if you are focused
on what you are giving TO people and situations, rather than what you
are getting FROM those people and situations.
Now, I am not a corporate type. I am not a salesperson or a marketer. But I AM a person who has spent many years being ambitious in work situations and these last few years being as driven as possible in a job search--definitely a go-getter. Yet, these past few weeks, a number of the things in the book have stuck with me. Things like networking being more about who you can connect than about what you can get from the people in your network. Like how your value is directly related "to how many people you serve and how you serve them." And like how being yourself, and giving of yourself--authentically--is ultimately the best thing you can do.
Perhaps none of these is such an earth-shattering idea--or perhaps they all are. Either way, they are new ways to think about both our work and our everyday situations, and for me, any opportunity to mix things up with a new way to think is a good opportunity. So, in this new year, I am thinking about being a go-giver. Check it out--it may appeal to you too!
Now, I am not a corporate type. I am not a salesperson or a marketer. But I AM a person who has spent many years being ambitious in work situations and these last few years being as driven as possible in a job search--definitely a go-getter. Yet, these past few weeks, a number of the things in the book have stuck with me. Things like networking being more about who you can connect than about what you can get from the people in your network. Like how your value is directly related "to how many people you serve and how you serve them." And like how being yourself, and giving of yourself--authentically--is ultimately the best thing you can do.
Perhaps none of these is such an earth-shattering idea--or perhaps they all are. Either way, they are new ways to think about both our work and our everyday situations, and for me, any opportunity to mix things up with a new way to think is a good opportunity. So, in this new year, I am thinking about being a go-giver. Check it out--it may appeal to you too!
Sunday, January 5, 2014
Choices
Last night, I watched an episode of Phineas and Ferb, in which one of
the characters is having difficulty making choices because he is unable
to see the results of his decisions before he decides. Boy geniuses
Phineas and Ferb create a device that allows their friend to split
himself when making a decision, so that he can see the ramifications
before really making the choice. Cumbersome, perhaps, and beyond reality
for most of us, but there are days when I really wish I had a machine
like that. Some decisions in our lives are clear, and some, not
important enough to be worthy of much energy. The ones that fall in
between, that have no clear-cut right or wrong, but that feel
significant enough to stress us, are the kickers. And for those,
sometimes I think I would gladly step into a gizmo (even if it were like
some of the amusement park rides I can't stand) if it would allow me to
split myself to get a ramifications preview.
Every single day, we probably make hundreds of decisions, small ones and large ones. We make many of them without even realizing it. We choose the local bus because it comes first, or the red apple because it's at the top of the fruit drawer. We put on a warm sweater for the day because we are cold in the morning. We take a certain train because we are used to it, even if it is not necessarily the best way to every destination. By and large, we are pretty good decision makers. And yet, just when we think we have mastered it, there come decisions just crying for that me-splitting machine.
But in our non-animated world, there is no machine like that. Sometimes we just have to take a leap--make a choice without really knowing what the result will be (or knowing what the result of the thing not chosen would have been). We can do all the research and all the speculation we like, but ultimately, we then have to trust that our choice will end well.
Perhaps this is what makes life that much more interesting. We don't always know how a story will end, so there's always something to surprise us. Sometimes what feel like the worst decisions in the moment yield the best outcomes in the end.
So, let us embrace our choices--and our ability to choose--whether we can "split ourselves" to anticipate their outcomes or not. We may not know what will happen, but, chances are, will have choices about how to handle what does.
Every single day, we probably make hundreds of decisions, small ones and large ones. We make many of them without even realizing it. We choose the local bus because it comes first, or the red apple because it's at the top of the fruit drawer. We put on a warm sweater for the day because we are cold in the morning. We take a certain train because we are used to it, even if it is not necessarily the best way to every destination. By and large, we are pretty good decision makers. And yet, just when we think we have mastered it, there come decisions just crying for that me-splitting machine.
But in our non-animated world, there is no machine like that. Sometimes we just have to take a leap--make a choice without really knowing what the result will be (or knowing what the result of the thing not chosen would have been). We can do all the research and all the speculation we like, but ultimately, we then have to trust that our choice will end well.
Perhaps this is what makes life that much more interesting. We don't always know how a story will end, so there's always something to surprise us. Sometimes what feel like the worst decisions in the moment yield the best outcomes in the end.
So, let us embrace our choices--and our ability to choose--whether we can "split ourselves" to anticipate their outcomes or not. We may not know what will happen, but, chances are, will have choices about how to handle what does.
Saturday, January 4, 2014
Snow Day
I admit it. I was hoping for the snow day. Perhaps even more than my kids.
It wasn't that it would have me home and playing in the white stuff. I'd be working regardless. Perhaps it was my not wanting to worry about my kids' travel to and from school, and their staying warm and dry for the day. Mostly, though, I think it was the idea that, with their return to school after a long time away, I just wanted them to have one more day of down time. One more day before having to return to the whirlwind of homework and activities. One more day to catch up on sleep and on organization. Just one more day.
And how did it go?
Sleep--check. When I woke to find out schools were closed, not only did I not wake up any kids, I grabbed an extra hour myself.
Organization--check. Well, not so much. Had I not been working, maybe. But steps were taken on big projects, so overall, not bad.
Playing in the white stuff--nope. But, as I traveled to work, I was immensely glad that I was not worrying about them trudging to school.
The down time--a success. Some board games played, some relaxing done. And a few steps closer to all of us being ready to handle the barrage as we return to our full plate of life.
Thanks to the snow. And the snow day.
It wasn't that it would have me home and playing in the white stuff. I'd be working regardless. Perhaps it was my not wanting to worry about my kids' travel to and from school, and their staying warm and dry for the day. Mostly, though, I think it was the idea that, with their return to school after a long time away, I just wanted them to have one more day of down time. One more day before having to return to the whirlwind of homework and activities. One more day to catch up on sleep and on organization. Just one more day.
And how did it go?
Sleep--check. When I woke to find out schools were closed, not only did I not wake up any kids, I grabbed an extra hour myself.
Organization--check. Well, not so much. Had I not been working, maybe. But steps were taken on big projects, so overall, not bad.
Playing in the white stuff--nope. But, as I traveled to work, I was immensely glad that I was not worrying about them trudging to school.
The down time--a success. Some board games played, some relaxing done. And a few steps closer to all of us being ready to handle the barrage as we return to our full plate of life.
Thanks to the snow. And the snow day.
Thursday, January 2, 2014
Missed
It used to be that when I went away for the winter holidays, it was because One Life to Live was dark. I wasn't working, but no one else was either. When I came back, we all came back, comparing notes about our holidays and time off.
Things are different now. In a freelance world, there is always something going on. I know, mostly from Facebook, that some of my former colleagues worked in Times Square for New Year's. I know that others of my friends worked right down to the wire of holidays and for much of the time in between. And I know that life went on where I've been working. I just missed it.
It's a funny thing coming back after a long time, knowing that things have gone on without you. It can be every freelancer's nightmare--will things have gone so well without you that taking off will have been the biggest mistake you ever made? Will drama have happened while you were gone that will make you woefully uninformed once you are back?
Or will it be every freelancer's dream--that perhaps you will return to the happy news that you actually were missed--that both your work and your personality mattered? That while life may have gone on, there is still plenty of life left for you to come back to?
"Going back" (see yesterday's blog) filled me with great anticipation, even dread. As it turns out, "missed" was on my side. For, while there were things I missed, I was missed as well. I came back to a place where apparently my work and personality do matter. And where missing something doesn't mean losing something.
Sometimes, when you're afraid you have missed the point, or the boat, or the opportunity, it turns out you have not missed much at all. And what you've gained is a whole lot more than what you've missed.
Things are different now. In a freelance world, there is always something going on. I know, mostly from Facebook, that some of my former colleagues worked in Times Square for New Year's. I know that others of my friends worked right down to the wire of holidays and for much of the time in between. And I know that life went on where I've been working. I just missed it.
It's a funny thing coming back after a long time, knowing that things have gone on without you. It can be every freelancer's nightmare--will things have gone so well without you that taking off will have been the biggest mistake you ever made? Will drama have happened while you were gone that will make you woefully uninformed once you are back?
Or will it be every freelancer's dream--that perhaps you will return to the happy news that you actually were missed--that both your work and your personality mattered? That while life may have gone on, there is still plenty of life left for you to come back to?
"Going back" (see yesterday's blog) filled me with great anticipation, even dread. As it turns out, "missed" was on my side. For, while there were things I missed, I was missed as well. I came back to a place where apparently my work and personality do matter. And where missing something doesn't mean losing something.
Sometimes, when you're afraid you have missed the point, or the boat, or the opportunity, it turns out you have not missed much at all. And what you've gained is a whole lot more than what you've missed.
Going Back
No matter how long the vacation, going back to the "reality" of normal
daily responsibilities is a challenge. A few thoughts as we "go
back"......
1. Do all these work and school things really have to start so early? I mean, weren't we happier and more productive sleeping till 10? (Okay, maybe happier, but, I guess, not more productive.)
2. Is it really possible to have had more homework to complete than when we were not on vacation? (Okay, I guess not more if you split it over all the days. But who wants to split it over all the days of a vacation?)
3. Is it really possible to have created more clutter in the calm of vacation than in the chaos of normal life? (Okay, I guess we are just clutter producers, whether stressed or relaxed!)
4. Does feeling not ready to go back mean we squandered the days of vacation? (No way. On the contrary, perhaps it means we really used them, but could just use more.)
5. Shouldn't I be ready to kick my kids out of the house and back to school? (Maybe, but perhaps the fact that I'm not means we mostly got along, even enjoyed each other, and now will just have to look forward to the next vacation.)
Good luck going back!
1. Do all these work and school things really have to start so early? I mean, weren't we happier and more productive sleeping till 10? (Okay, maybe happier, but, I guess, not more productive.)
2. Is it really possible to have had more homework to complete than when we were not on vacation? (Okay, I guess not more if you split it over all the days. But who wants to split it over all the days of a vacation?)
3. Is it really possible to have created more clutter in the calm of vacation than in the chaos of normal life? (Okay, I guess we are just clutter producers, whether stressed or relaxed!)
4. Does feeling not ready to go back mean we squandered the days of vacation? (No way. On the contrary, perhaps it means we really used them, but could just use more.)
5. Shouldn't I be ready to kick my kids out of the house and back to school? (Maybe, but perhaps the fact that I'm not means we mostly got along, even enjoyed each other, and now will just have to look forward to the next vacation.)
Good luck going back!
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