GregB

Usually, I try to see it as two different paths to the same destination. I’ll create the version they asked for, but I’ll also share the direction I believe truly serves the project. More often than not, once they see the comparison, they understand why I made the suggestion. And on the rare occasion they don’t? I take comfort in knowing I did everything short of interpretive dance to show them the best way forward.

I see new tools the way some people see kitchen gadgets. You still need to know how to cook before you can do anything with the air fryer, otherwise you just end up burning frozen waffles in a more expensive machine. For me, the foundation will always be solid design principles. That said, I love learning new software and experimenting with emerging technology because it often opens doors I wouldn’t have thought to walk through. By keeping one foot in timeless design fundamentals and the other in the latest tech, I can deliver work that feels both grounded and forward-looking. And my clients get the best of both worlds without the smoke alarm going off

Dogs, without hesitation. A dog will look at you like you just solved world hunger for remembering to throw a tennis ball. I respect that kind of optimism. Cats, on the other hand, give you the same look my high school math teacher gave me when I turned in homework late, a mix of mild disappointment and suspicion. Dogs remind me that enthusiasm is contagious, and I will always take tail wags over judgmental stares.

I see feedback as part of the job, like paying taxes or standing in line at the DMV. You can’t avoid it, and trying usually makes things worse. The truth is, you can never make everyone happy every single time. Once I was so close to a project that I lost sight of the larger objective. My creative director and the client stepped in with feedback that completely shifted my perspective. I adjusted the style, and the client not only loved it but came back for three more videos in that direction. That experience taught me that feedback, even when it stings a little, is often the thing that makes the work stronger.

I’ve always enjoyed the variety. Every new project feels a little like being handed a puzzle with a few missing pieces, which keeps it interesting. On a personal level, I’d love to learn how to develop my own film. Yes, I still shoot on film, and there’s something about the mystery of waiting to see what comes out that I can’t quite give up. I think exploring that hands-on process would give me a new perspective that I could bring back into my creative work.

I think of my style less as a signature and more as a spice rack. I pull from my own life experiences, but I always look at what best suits the client’s needs. Some projects call for a pinch of humor, others need something clean and minimal, and occasionally you need the whole jar of paprika. My style shows up in the way I solve problems and make choices, but it always adapts to the story the client is trying to tell.

I’ve learned that creativity doesn’t survive well on an empty tank. I make a point to reset with a mountain bike ride or a surf whenever I can, and cooking with my wife is one of my favorite ways to recharge. Those breaks aren’t just about balance, they’re what keep me sharp when I sit back down to work. It turns out ideas flow a lot better after salt water or garlic.

I started out in the early days of the action sports world, which was basically a collection of people trying to make things look cool without much of a plan. I naturally gravitated toward creating, whether it was graphics, videos, or anything else that helped tell the story. What began as a way to keep up with the culture turned into a career where I get to keep making cool stuff, only now with deadlines and invoices attached.