lighting. (And I must admit, being used to having brown-bagged it for lunch most days on the photo projects I had been part of at the time I was simply amazed by the spread on the craft service table, the fabulous catered meals – 3 a day! Then, at the end of the day, at least back in the '80's, a big cooler full of brewskies was rolled out to help the crew mellow after a day of busting butt!!! That tradition has long-since gone away.)

I learned so much by observing the gaffer and the cameraman while helping Susan in the art department dressing sets during production that my work took on an entirely different look. Keep in mind, this is the early '80's: Flash! Flash! Flash! was the rule of the day, indoors and out – ring-light, 5 packs, 8 heads, light-box... Stop action baby! White light, yeah. Films were 'hot' lights. Silks. Gels to warm or cool, to balance multiple light sources or create something altogether new. Shoot into the sun!

After a couple of years working in the Art department with my friend and patron Susan I decided to go out on my own, start my 'Arizona Land Company' location scouting service. I quickly decided to 'specialize' in what folks from London and Los Angeles, Toronto and New York came Out West for – not swing-sets and kitchen countertops but phenomenal landscapes, amazing performance roads, 'funky', 'border town', 'rustic', 'Route 66' looks and 'The Last Picture Show' towns. I drove throughout this amazing State, Arizona. I made A TON of great pictures. And then, because I wanted more Levis and Chevy truck, investment bank and ATT spots to take the place of all those Fruit Loops and Fruit of the Loom and Crest toothpaste projects, I decided to take The Next Step. But I'm getting ahead of myself here...

My next 'angel' came in the form of Marol Butcher, a production manager I met one lucky day. (Today she is a producer.) From L.A., Marol was working with a production company from Chicago on a car wax commercial. She sounded nice over the phone. (What a lame description I suppose. What I mean is that she was sharp, not ditzy; friendly, not condescending – and not at all one of those Valley Girls who generally precipitated each conversation with lengthy hosannahs about how 'brilliant' the director was we all were about to have the life-changing opportunity to work with.) Marol on the phone was a breath of fresh air.

I was standing like a meet-and-greet stiff in the airport terminal with a clip-board holding a sign scribbled in magic marker when I caught site of a punk version Olive Oyl stepping purposely through the jet-way door wearing a pair of transparent red plastic-framed dark, dark sunglasses – dyed-black China-girl hair, alabaster skin, bright red lipstick, loose black t-shirt over short black skirt