Creativite Videos That Don't Bleed to Budget

I once asked a video producer, "Can't we do a video without spending so much money?"

"Not this one."

Somehow it feels like sometimes everything costs too much money.

Is it possible to put together a video that doesn't cost a lot of money but that is still effective, entertainming, and excellent?

Below I've linked a short blog post that I came across this morning. It includes two low-budget videos that you'll never notice are low budget because they are so engaging.

Maybe they'll spark some creative ideas.

Fun Little Movies: Content That Works :: Mobi-lize :: Programming

Elwood - The New World's Ugliest Dog

This is fresh news, folks. The video starts out a little slow, but suffer through the first 20 seconds or so. And especially check out Elwood's tongue and his - um - sound effects at the end. Classic!

And for those who are interested, here are a couple of the winners from previous years.

Willow Arts Conference - Day 1 Session 1

Session 1 of the conference began with Dewitt Jones, a photographer from National Geographic. This wasn't the kind of presentation that you walked away from with a ton of new head knowledge. It was inspiring.

His topic was "What's Right With the World". He opened with a discussion about how National Geographic takes a different approach than many of the magazines that are on the shelves. Their desire is to photograph what's right in the world. They have certainly succeeded over the years. And he attributes that to the fact that no one ever throws away a National Geographic magazine.

"In some houses, the walls would just collapse if you took away the stacks of those yellow magazines. Over the years they've become support columns for the building."

Then he went on to go through a presentation of photos that was absolutely breathtaking. The audience gasped at one picture after another.

For me, it brought to mind the limits of creativity. You wouldn't think that a photographer would have the most creative job in the world. What can he create, apart from building a set? He just captures what's in front of him. But isn't that what art is? It captures the world around us? It presents the things the we as artists observe?

I believe that artists in general see things that others do not. And then they have the ability to communicate that vision. That's what makes them artists. With picture after picture, he showed us beauty that many of us would have missed. I wish I could share all or even some of them on my blog. There are a few that you can see at his web page:

http://www.dewitt_jones.com/

Then he said one thing I found simple but profound. He showed us a picture of a bird, singing its lungs out. The picture to the right is not his, and it really doesn't do the point justice. In his photo series, he did an outstanding job of capturing the energy and passion of this tiny bird, putting his entire body into a song. When the crowd finally quieted their approval, he went on to say "When I saw this bird, I had to take the picture. He was giving the song everything he had. He didn't sing because he had the answers to the world's problems. He was singing because he had a song."

I'm sure I won't be able to convey the effect of that statement in a short blog post. But it spoke to me. Much of modern art is trying to make a political statement. It has its own agenda. Even in churches, artists too often are trying to make a sale. And in so doing, they lose their authenticity.

We have song writers in our church who are waiting to have a poignant message to deliver before they write their song. But they don't need it. The best songs don't need to provide an answer.

Listen to the song of David in Psalm 119:81-88 (paraphrased in THE MESSAGE)

I'm homesick - longing for your salvation

I'm waiting for your word of hope.

My eyes grow heavy watching for some sign of your promise;

how long must I wait for your comfort?

There's smoke in my eyes - they burn and water,

but I keep a steady gaze on the instructions you post.

How long till you haul my tormentors into court?

The same concept goes for any kind of artwork. The paintings that go down in history are not political statements. They are expressions of the world around them. The film that sticks in your head is not the one that wraps up in tidy fashion. It's the one that speaks truth into your consciousness and won't let your mind go.

Truth communicated has power. It can't be escaped. It can't be set aside as can a message with an agenda. Truth brings about change. It sets free. (John 8:32)

So to the artist within me, my take away is this: stop trying to solve every problem in the world. That's God's job. Mine is to draw the attention of the audience of the world to the One who can do something about it.

Entering Willow

Last year Willow had a great session called "From Street to Seat" which was all about producing a theme at your church that impacts people from the street all the way to their seats.

Willow did a great job at the arts conference with this concept this year. They had brought in street performers from Chicago, who were performing outside as you were walking in from your car and inside in the lobby as you were browsing and getting ready for the conference.

The guys above were bringing back motown. Three part harmony and a guitar. Priceless. Then as soon as you get through the door there's a guy playing the blues on a sax.

This was a touch of class that made the week even more memorable from the very beginning. This of course is in addition to the greeters that help you every step of the way to make sure you know where you're going and what you need to do to get started. Without these staff, I believe things would not be so stress-free as we began the conference. They are a great model of the importance of greeting at a church service. I think we were greeted by at least 10 people before we finally made it to our seats.

You never get a second chance to make a first impression. We had three people with us that had never been to Willow before. I think they were all impressed right off the bat before anything even got started.

The registration process was incredibly smooth, too. To think how quickly they processed the thousands of people that were attending this conference, all arriving at the same time. I can't help but contrast them to the hotel where they were overburdened by three people who wanted to check in at the same time.

Amazingly, there were no computers involved in the registration process at Willow. That is, at least not when you're picking up your materials. I think if it were at our place we would have bent over backwards to get a computer involved. It has to be faster, right?

That's what the hotel thought.

When we got to the table to get our registration materials, there was NO line. We walked right up to the table, got our stuff in a matter of seconds, and we were on our way.

Way to go Willow.

Day 2 - Breakfast, anyone?

6:00 AM came early on Wednesday. I was exhausted. But I had to get up early. Starbucks was calling. It's a shame that Starbucks is sort of out of the way of breakfast and of the Willow Campus. Not that it would stop me. It just means that everybody else has to get up earlier.

Then there's Apple Villa. This has got to be my favorite breakfast place in the world. Other people may think me strange for that kind of statement, but I am in love with this place. I've always loved breakfast anyway, and I rarely eat breakfast when I'm home. But when I go out to breakfast I like to go to a little mom-and-pop diner with a lot of atmosphere and plenty of selection. And this place has got it all. Great service. Great selection. Great food. I could eat there everyday. And during the few days a year that I am in South Barrington, you bet I do. Apologies to my staff, who think my excitement for this place to be a bit overboard. I went there every day last year, and I will do the same next year. Still haven't gotten there early enough to try the 20-minute pancakes, though.

Red Rood Inn

And then there was the hotel.

Last year we stayed at the Red Roof Inn. Someone **ahem** had a typo on the itinerary sheet and called it the "Red Rood Inn". We made fun of said person for the duration of the week and kept referring to our evening accommodations as the Red Rood Inn.

Perhaps it was prophetic.

We decided to stay there again this year because their rates are good and the rooms were all recently remodeled. I get there to check in. Here are your two keys.

"Excuse me? Two keys? We have three rooms. "

"We only have you down for two, sir."

"But I have three. Here are the reservation numbers." (I keep excellent records.)

"I'm sorry, sir. We have down that one of those has been cancelled."

"No way. We canceled some of the other rooms, but we were certainly left with three. I have the conciliation numbers right here."

"I'm sorry, sir. It appears that our corporate office has made a mistake. You only have two rooms. And we do not have any more rooms that we can give you. We are completely booked up."

"You have nothing?"

"Nothing. In fact, it looks like we have just had three more reservations made over the Internet while you and I were here talking. And we do not have any rooms available for them, either."

"You mean there are going to be other parties coming in here tonight expecting a room and you are not going to be able to accommodate them?"

"That's correct, sir. We're sorry. There is nothing we can do for you."

"Can you recommend another hotel in the area that may have space?"

"No, sir. They will most definitely ALL be booked solid."

"What about in another town? Is there a Red Roof Inn within about a 30 minute drive that has rooms available?"

"No, sir. Nothing."

We left in a huff. We still had not eaten anything but Gummy Bears, and the bears were still grumpy. It was late now. About 10:00. That is, 11:00 our time. I went to the car and explained the situation to my teammates. We started making phone calls. Luckily we had brought along a cellular card for the laptop, so there was Internet access in the car. After making quite a few calls, it became apparent that we weren't getting in anywhere that night.

My friends at the office had said that we should go to Portello's and try the hot dogs. Chicago style. And loaded. So we did. We got there just as they were locking the doors, but I didn't even notice. Alan and Kevin both said that I needed to get the Jumbo Dog, two of 'em, loaded.

I got to the counter and they said they were out of jumbo dogs. I would have to get the regular size. I didn't much care. I was still thinking about where I was going to sleep for the night. I got the regular dog and wolfed it down while I clicked away on my computer.

I was a little uneasy about eating a dog that late at night with peppers on it. And the fresh tomatoes threw me off as well. But I have to say that it was outstanding. I wish I had the time and the peace of mind to enjoy it, but c'est la vie. The peppers didn't cause much problems. Apparently the bears rendered them harmless.

We finally decided there was nowhere else to stay. My wife and I split up for the night and shared rooms with Tori and Matt, respectively. When I got back to the "Rood" I was able to get another hotel for us for the remaining nights, thanks to Priceline.com.

And there was evening, and very quickly there was morning. The first day at the Willow Arts Conference.

More Road Blocks on the Way to South Barrington

Waiting for a later flight is not so bad when there's gummy bears involved. Even if they're gangsta gummies. Of course it would have been better had there been Starbucks too, but one can only hope for so much change in the world.

Our flight finally arrived. Apparently things were going tough in New York because lots of other flights were getting canceled and the air lines were trying to buy off people en route to the Big Apple. Nobody offered us anything.

The airplane that finally arrived was small. Really small. When the call came, it was something along the lines of, "Zone 1 please present your tickets for boarding."

One guy gets up.

"OK, everybody else may board."

That was me and Matt and Tori. OK there were a few more, but it was small. Conditions were cloudy, so the ride was a bit bumpy. I started reconsidering whether I should have eaten all of the gummy bears at once on an empty stomach. After an hour in the air, I was no longer wondering. It was a bad choice.

Finally we get to O'Hare. My friend Lisa had gotten us an outstanding deal on a rental car. Some rental place we've never heard of. On the receipt there were instructions that you MUST call them when your plane lands and they will come pick you up. So we waited on our bags to arrive at baggage claim, and I called them. They said they would be there in a few minutes. Out we go to the pickup station just outside of the baggage claim area. The National Bus goes buy. Enterprise. Budget. Another National. Another Budget. Enterprise. Enterprise. No "Ace Car Rental" anywhere.

Where are these guys?

After 20 minutes, I started to get restless. Were they that far away? I called them again. "Where are you guys?"

It was hard enough to understand the guy with the thick accent anyway. I think all people who deal in the service industries should be required to speak Southern. But I just couldn't hear him on my mobile phone with all the rental car busses whizzing by - none of them carrying an "Ace Rental Car" logo, by the way.

Finally I was able to make out what he said. We were in the wrong place. We needed to go to the Central Transport Station.

What the heck is that? And where is it?

Go back in side the baggage area, and follow the signs.

I went back into the baggage area. Every sign had directions to the Transport Station. Every one of them were pointing in a different direction. Finally we settled on one, went down an escalator, and into an underground tunnel walkway. It was fairly well lit, sort of like a subway tunnel. But there was nobody else anywhere around. Not a soul. We walked for 10 minutes, following the directional arrows. It felt like the airport was long behind us. Once we rounded a turn and there was a lonely man playing the sax. I could see why he was playing the blues. This place was depressing. And he couldn't be making much money. Maybe he just got lost down there so he started playing.

I started to wonder if we were in the sewar system beneath the city.

Finally we came to some elevators that led us up to ground level. We were in what looked like a bus terminal. We walked through the waiting area and out the door, and there was a very kind man standing in front of a white van that said "Ace Rental Car". We all started to cheer and clap. He loaded up our luggage and whisked us away from The Matrix.

Off to the WIllow Creek Arts Conference

My day in the office was tough on Tuesday. Last year's conference was so wonderful and so impacting that I wanted to jump on the flight at noon just so I could get to South Barrington. But somehow in my excitement I forgot rule number one: "Nothing of value comes easily."

I did in fact leave early just to make sure there was ample time for whatever things can go wrong when you're flying. We got there a couple of hours before the flight was to leave. There wasn't a long line at the security check point. Everything was going to go very smoothly and with little stress.

I walked through the metal detector. No problem. I went to the end of the carry-on retrieval line. Uh-oh. The big butch looking lady is scowling. No offense. I'm sure she's very nice. When she's at home playing with her children or something. Right now, though, she's mad. Just let me get my stuff and go. Where is it? My trays haven't come out yet. Oh no.

"Did somebody leave a laptop in their bag?"

Yes, that would be me. How was I know that the principle strategy of terrorists was to hide their laptops in their backpack? I didn't know that there was a new rule that laptops had to be placed in a separate tray.

"Sir, we're going to have to pat you down. Please step to the side."

What? Pat me down? I don't think so.

But it turns out that Bertha's job was done. Her job is just to call out the violators - the potential terrorists. It's Sargent Sumo's job to do the extensive search.

It really wasn't so bad. After all, I had set aside plenty of margin time to allow for unforeseen problems. We went in to a Plexiglas room where all the other travelers could see my bag being ransacked and me being searched. Mothers hid their children from my view as they went by, but it really wasn't so horrible. And my bag now has a clean, fresh pine scent.

So on we went to the waiting area. And wait we did. For 45 minutes or so. I was intent on my book on Emergent Worship when there was an announcement on the intercom system. I thought I heard the word "Jones" in there somewhere, but I ignored it. A minute or two later, I heard it again. My wife said, "Did they just call us up to the counter?"

"Of course not, dear. There must be a hundred Joneses in here."


I don't think there were even a hundred PEOPLE in there. We were, after all in the Richmond Airport. But she insisted. And about that time Matt McGhan popped up.


"Hey - did they just call us to the counter?"


"What?" I said. "They said 'Jones'. There's got to be a hundred Joneses in here."


"No, they said 'Passengers Jones and McGhan, please report to the US Air ticket counter."


Then my phone rang. Anthony. "Hey - the reason they're calling you is because we got you moved to another flight. I got you on a direct flight, so you'll have an extra hour in Chicago tonight. Aren't you happy? You'll have to come to the front ticket counter."


"You mean the front of the airport? Past Bertha? No way. I'll take the layover in Philadelphia."


"You'll have to come back up here to the front counter."


There's got to be another way. So I went to talk to the lady at the ticket counter for my flight. "They just paged me up to the front. Do you know what that was about?"


"Um, no." She said. "Let me call and see." She picks up her phone. "Looks like you've been moved to another airline. You'll have to go back up front."


"Past Bertha," I said.


"Who's Bertha?" She said.


But her smirk told me that she knew exactly what I was talking about.


Back up to the front. There's Tori and Anthony. They've already gotten our tickets. Anthony had us moved over to the other flight. I guess it would be good to get there earlier and not have to have the layover in Philly. The attendants were going right then to get our luggage. They'll be back in a minute.


No they weren't.


I don't know how long it was, but it felt like an hour. We stood up there at the front desk, not knowing if they had forgotten about us or not. We asked "How long is it going to take?"


"They're trying to get it for you now."


No they weren't.


Ten minutes later she walked out to go get the luggage. Ten more minutes later we had it in our hands. Then we had to stand in line at the United Airlines line to check our bags. Again.


Off we went to go back to the concourses again. Oops. There's security. But now I knew better. I took my laptop out and put it in a grey plastic bin all by itself.


**Ding**.


"You and your travel companions have been selected for additional screening."


It appears that another thing terrorists do is to change airlines at the last minute. Bertha seemed to have an accomplished look on her face.


After it was all said and done, we finally got to our seats. The flight was delayed. It seemed we were going to have to wait after all.


So wait we did. It was a good time, really. Here are some pictures of Tori and Matt. Matt looked like this pretty much the whole week.



Tori looks relaxed, but I think she was just posing for the picture. Me on the other hand? After the trama I had endured I needed some gummy bears. Since I had plenty of time to burn now, I bought some from the store in the airport.


Really? $35 for a little bag of gummy bears? OK. Sounds reasonable to me.


These were interesting gummies. We called them "Gangsta gummies". They were all deformed and had holes in them. Still worth it, though.