While my career has been largely shaped by the moving image, I've also cultivated a meaningful foundation in design and in the creation of still elements. My understanding of design was forged through formal study and lived experience — two teachers whose combined lessons proved invaluable. Together, they illuminated one of the most enduring truths in creative work: that great design is never truly about the designer. It is about the audience.
That truth has stayed with me. It has taught me to set aside personal preference in favor of purposeful intention, to quiet my own aesthetic instincts when the work demands it, and to let each project evolve organically toward the people it was made to reach. In marketing, especially, knowing your audience isn't simply good practice — it's the entire craft.
The Smoky Hills PBS logo was born from a moment of transformation. When Smoky Hills Public Television was called to evolve — shifting its identity from Public Television to Public Broadcasting Station — a full rebrand became not just necessary, but an opportunity. Certain elements needed to remain anchored to the PBS national standard, but everything else was a blank canvas.
With a desire for simplicity and a deep sense of place, the creative vision took shape: a restrained, purposeful palette and the rolling silhouette of the Smoky Hills themselves woven into the heart of the design. Through rounds of iteration and thoughtful critique, the concept was refined, sharpened, and ultimately embraced. From there, the design made its journey through management and the board — and just like that, the Smoky Hills PBS logo was brought to life.
Earning my UAV Commercial Pilot's licence opened the skies — and with them, a new dimension of creative possibility. Beyond capturing sweeping aerial footage for the productions I was involved in, the licence gave me a lens through which to see the world differently. Collaborating with the graphics department, I took to the air to photograph rolling fields and buildings rising from the earth across campus, images that would ultimately find their home in the pages of the Ag Report.
Rusty the Robot Plays the Drums marked one of my earliest forays into the world of animation — a labor of love born from a collaboration with Jammin' Randy, a spirited local musician from Hays. Randy arrived with a song, a vision, and an open invitation to bring it to life visually. Working within the constraints of a modest budget and a ticking clock, we embraced simplicity as our guiding principle rather than our limitation.
Through a series of design sketches and creative back-and-forth, Rusty slowly emerged — a character whose charm lived precisely in his understated form. The simpler we kept his design, the more fluidly he could move, and so restraint became our greatest creative tool. Once Rusty had found his look, the animation could finally begin.
The road wasn't without its bumps, but every stumble along the way only made the finished piece more rewarding. What we ultimately crafted was a playful, engaging video with a purpose — one designed to help kids find their rhythm and feel the joy of keeping the beat.