I picked up videography almost thirteen years ago when my first daughter was born. The entire first half of her life is documented with cheesy songs and low quality video. While those videos aren’t my best work, those moments that were captured are priceless.
That’s what I love about videography - the ability to freeze frame time. I love going back to those moments: the chubby cheeks, the squeals, learning to walk, our pot bellied pig that tormented Kyndall while she played. I can sit and watch those videos for hours and relive every moment.
Over the years my cameras and techniques have improved, but my love for videography and storytelling has remained..
When I was nine, my parents bought our "place" as they called it. We didn't run cattle, so it wasn't a ranch, and we sure as heck weren't farmers, so "place" just stuck. We spent that whole summer picking stickers, digging post holes, building pens, and planting trees. We worked on our place the next year too, but mainly what I remember about the next year, the year I turned ten, was lying in hammocks, swimming in horse tanks, and eating ice cold watermelon out of the bunk house fridge.
Out of all of my summers, that one stands out the most in my memories. I had dirty blond hair, a chilly bowl haircut, buckteeth and lived in basketball shorts. I ran around barefoot all day and threw my boots on in the evenings in time for my my sister and I to rope steers in our arena just north of our house.
My horse's name was Cisco - I called him Cisco Janeiver after "the guy who gave all the movies two thumbs up." He was old and ornery, and would reach out and bite the steers just as I was ready to throw my loop, but he was the best horse I could have ever asked for. He loved bananas and frosted mini wheats as much as I did.
That summer we drank a lot of cherry Koolaid and ate ribs and steaks right off of a cinderblock fire pit, not wasting anytime on forks or plates. We stayed outside til way after dark and played card games on the giant picnic table my dad had built.
I know, we sound like a bunch of hillbillies, and for the most part we were.
My love for animals ran deep, and I just knew I would be a veterinarian, regardless of whether I could say or spell it correctly. When our neighbor found a dying blackbird, I took it upon myself to nurse her back to health. Cookie, named after the thin mints I was living off of, spent three months in a hamster cage in my room, but flew off at the end of the summer.
One evening, while we sat horseback, the radio blaring from my dad's old green Chevy, a new song came on. I remember it like it was yesterday, me in my dirty old white Nike t-shirt, my bangs parted down the center like Zach Morris, my dad in a short sleeved plaid button up, and my sister leaning over her saddle horn, one hand on her horse's mane, all listening to this song. Lila McCann was singing "Down Came a Blackbird," and we all were in love.
Today, our lives are all so much different, so much busier, but I think back to that summer, to that night, and while it makes my heart ache a little bit, it always makes me smile.
The name, Blackbird Productions Company, is my little way of keeping that summer with me everyday - to remember to lay in hammocks, swim in horse tanks, eat ice cold watermelon, and enjoy the little things.
It's all in the little things, the details - that's my philosophy anyway. The shoes, the smile, the first breath, the heartbeat, the first look, the anticipation, the excitement - each detail is a piece of your story.
I want to capture every moment, down to the finest details, of the most important days of your life. I specialize in engagements, weddings, birth stories, and other special life events.
Located in the Texas Panhandle, but happy to travel to all locations, Blackbird Productions Company creates specialized products, unique experiences and personalized stories so that you can relive every moment.
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