I went to the University of New Hampshire and graduated with a degree in Outdoor Recreation Management. Most of those years were spent outside, in weather, watching how a place changes from sunrise to sundown. I did not know it then, but every part of my life since has been a quiet continuation of those mornings.
Before The Auric Creative existed, I worked for state government in New England. Small towns, mostly. I spent my days inside the Land and Water Conservation Fund grant process, which sounds drier than it ever was. What I really did was watch small businesses keep towns alive. Funding came from them. Tax base came from them. Identity came from them. I left that work knowing, with a certainty you cannot teach yourself, that supporting service-based businesses is not just a creative job. It is an economic one. It is a love letter to a place.
New England taught me to notice the smaller things. The way fog lifts off a field at first light. The exact second the light goes gold. The look on someone's face when they are talking about something they love. That kind of patient noticing translates almost without effort into a cinematic frame, and by the time I picked up videography seriously, the rest of my life had quietly been preparing me for it.
I built The Auric Creative around social media management. It is and always will be the core of what I do. The cinematic videography grew out of it, almost naturally, into a system that pairs visual work with strategic delivery. The story to the screen, to the scroll, to the inbox. In a few short years, that system has made me one of the most sought-after creatives in the Southwest.
The numbers do not feel like numbers to me. They feel like phone calls. Ten million client views in six months. Six to ten qualified inbound leads in a partner's DMs every single week. Campaigns live within fourteen days of a shoot. Twenty-five new monthly clients for a single med spa. A realtor tripling listing views and the offers that came with them. A restaurant lifting their online orders by sixty percent. Every one of those is somebody's livelihood. That is what I think about when I direct a frame.
I believe in authenticity. I believe systems should never be one-size-fits-all, because no two businesses ever are. The proprietary part of what I do is the way I reshape what I have built around whoever is sitting in front of me. A med spa in Scottsdale. A wine bar in Sedona. A property tour in the desert. A restaurant on the coast. A boutique in a small town. I have lived all over. I have worked across nearly every service-based industry I can think of. The work translates because the intention behind it never has to.
When I am not on set, I am usually on a trail. Hiking when the weather is kind. Backcountry snowboarding when there is snow. Most of my best ideas come from time spent quietly outside. The patience to wait for the right light is the only skill that has ever really mattered, and the wait, almost always, is the most beautiful part.