Taken with picplz.

Taken with picplz.

Time is running out for speeches. It's time for action. It's time for Johnny Canuck.

Taken with picplz.

For anyone interested in video production, this energetic and informative interview with Miguel Hernandez of Grumo Media is like a video production 101 class.

Producing good video is hard. Many people, even those who really should know better, often don't understand this. But Miguel serves up some good tips on how to plan and prepare for a video project, how to tease out the essence of what you're trying to achieve, and lots of practical tips. Plus, the guy is just a great interview!

A couple of quotes:

"I mean, really, in today’s world, you have like 10 to 15 seconds to catch somebody’s attention. If you have a boring video, it doesn’t matter how much love you put into it, they’re going to leave your website. Right? That’s what people are doing wrong today."

And:

"At the end of the day, to create something that people want to watch, this is what I always say: There has to be a little story."

Watch the video on Mixergy: http://mixergy.com/miguel-hernandez-grumo-interview/

 

 

Note: the animation site by Andrew Kramer he mentions is actually http://www.videocopilot.net/ not dot com.

Taken with picplz in Capital.

Taken with picplz.

My 4-yr-old daughter has been in the media a lot so far in her life. I'm sure she'll grow up to a fantastic spokesperson for War Amps and who knows what other organization. Today she just had fun being a princess, no matter what angle the reporter tried. Way to go kiddo; you can be a princess for as long as you want.

 

Tonight I took my eldest child to her first movie. She's four, and is at the special age where everything is magical. It's truly beautiful. We went to see Tangled, which, in its own right, is a great movie. But seeing it with my daughter--seeing it through my daughter's eyes--made the night, and the movie, so much more memorable. First she marveled at the inside of the theatre; the golden curtain that covered the screen, the pillars that reached skywards, the coloured lights that sparkled. Then there was the movie, which thrilled and captivated her. I spent half of the time watching the screen and the other half watching her, watching her face contort and transform with laughter, tension and exhilaration. I watched as she danced in her seat as the musical numbers rang out, and her feet jump and bounce as Rapunzel danced. I held her hand and reassured her during the one or two intense moments of the show and we were both moved at the selflessness displayed by both Rapunzel and Flynn as each sacrificed their lives for the other.

From the ride to the theatre to the trip back home, the evening was perfect. But also painful. And that's where Atwood comes in. The night made real my all-time favourite literary quote, from Margaret Atwood's Alias Grace. While I've loved this quote ever since I first read it more than a decade ago, its truth was never so evident to me until tonight. The quote obviously touched something inside of me back in my younger days, a recognition perhaps of the impermanence of life and the weight of beauty that surrounds us daily. But whatever might have originally made this quote touch me pales to the meaning it now has for me. 

And there we were, in a kind of harmony; and the evening was so beautiful, that it made a pain in my heart, as when you cannot tell whether you are happy or sad; and I thought that if I could have a wish, it would be that nothing would ever change, and we could stay that way forever.

Back then, I could barely comprehend the possibility of fatherhood and all its sacrifice and joy. But now, tonight, with my daughter by my side, experiencing her excitement of doing something brand new and fun, watching her raw, unmitigated emotions fearlessly on display, seeing her dance in a theatre full of people because it's obviously the most natural thing to do when the music is great and the mood is right, tonight Atwood's quote came rushing back to me like the tears that threatened in that darkened theatre. The evening was so beautiful. And the pain in my heart was real. Happiness and sadness--intoxicatingly, frustratingly--flowing forever in my blood stream. Keeping me alive. Reminding me of what I have.