New revised website

New day dawns
New day dawns for pluckey's web

Motivated  by Concentric Network Solutions’ closing of Chattanooga Online at the end of May 2011 (and thus the shuttering of the webspace I’d been using since, oh, 1995), I made the move this weekend to this new format for this blog and associated materials. I’m using WordPress self-installed on the new web host. So far, so good. I’m still filling in holes and repairing broken links, adding titles and fixing categories, uploading content and refining interfaces (most notably to picture galleries and other archives, coming soon).

A few glimpses at previous incarnations of my website. Here’s a Wayback Machine link to 1998. Then I simplified the look; here’s a link to 1999’s version. Then around 2000 I hit on the color scheme seen today, but still with an unrefined interface.  I made some minor improvements (mainly adopting Blogger as my infrastructure), leading to this peek at 2004. And other than intermittent blog and picture posts, the website remained the same… until this weekend’s complete renovation. What are my plans for pluckey’s web? It’s a place to store what I’ve written, shot, created, thought; an archive of interesting (to me, anyway) glimpses and resources. Yes, I use Facebook for status updates and promotion and such; but I intend to use these pages for more in-depth coverage on the things I find important (or trivial — it’s just a website, you know). It’s all part of being a content producer:  producing (and sharing) content.

old website: 6,163 visitors
The old website had accumulated 6,163 visitors since 12/5/1999

The Wide Canvas of Faces

I made my public debut as a video artist on Saturday, April 4th, 2009, at the CreateHere gallery on Main Street, in Chattanooga, Tennessee. I’ve titled the piece “The Wide Canvas of Faces.” I built an 8-foot by 2-foot canvas from wood strips, canvas dropcloth, and white paint, and projected onto it from a strategically-placed video projector. Here’s an example of roughly how it looked. I enjoyed the entire experience, from concept to execution, and learned a lot about the logistics of Relief Projection. Thanks to everyone for their help!


The Leap of Faith

Yes, you’ve heard correctly: I’ve taken the “leap of faith” and entered the Realm of the Self-Employed. I resigned from Atomic Films in August, 2008, after eight years of employment as their video editor. Nowadays, I’m supporting myself with professional freelance video production and postproduction, design, and consulting. This also gives me time to work on my Community Communication Project and go back to school (in fact, I’m currently teaching Nonlinear Video Editing at Chattanooga State Technical Community College, and I’m planning on taking some college courses at either Chattanooga State or UTC in the spring). You can still reach me via email: pluckey (at) gmail (dot) com


Trying to look professorial…

Class starts soon at Chattanooga State… and I’m teaching it! Nonlinear Video Editing, Co-241, with me as Adjunct Instructor. Exciting and humbling.

I’ll be explaining to the students how to edit video using a computer. Fortunately, it’s something I’ve been doing professionally for many years. And I enjoy explaining how things work. Still:  Exciting and humbling.



I’ve launched a new part of the Community Communication Project, concentrating on that slice of the communication pie called “Television and Video,” finding a way to bridge that gap between actual people and how they can share with each other. The name of this effort is CommuniTV. In other words, community + TV = CommuniTV.
bridging the gap with CommuniTV
There are CommuniTV-oriented posts on the CommuniTV blog (predictably), as a way of consolidating information about community-oriented video in one location. And as other “slices of the pie” begin to be implemented (such as, say, public access to art, mediation, print, facilitation, web, community memory, and so on), I’ll be sure to let you know.



I recently visited the IKEA store in Atlanta; wow, what an experience that was. A little mind-boggling at the selection, a little overwhelming due to the odd mazes you travel through… All in all, an intriguing place, and the prices are relatively low, too. I got all the assorted pieces for building a set of Gorm shelves, and last weekend I actually put the pieces together. True to the Ikea cliche, I had 48 screw holes and only 47 screws. Still, it wasn’t too hard to put together, and they haven’t fallen down (yet). Click on the picture to watch a timelapse movie of removing the old shelves and then building the new shelves. The new shelves are in my red, red, red living room, right next to the front doorway. Eventually I’ll even Put Things On The Shelves, and so on.


Website note

A quick metapost: I’ve begun refurbishing the links on the left (Audio/Movies/Biography) with some success, and more to come. Also, in my renovation frenzy I “broke” the Archives of blog entries, but it seems to be fixed now. And yes, I’ve enabled commenting. So far, so good. [Note that this applies to the website circa 2006]


One model for distribution

I joined a discussion on a mailing list today about the usefulness/likelihood/profitability of making documentaries (on the International Media Users Group IMUG list). Here’s what I had to say:

Would you hit the jackpot on sending your first program out and then getting $2000 per station x 300 stations? About as likely as winning the lottery. Again, the idea is to build your brand, develop your reputation, give the stations something to expect — some value that they’re investing in. Do you want to “Get Rich Quick” or do you want to “Make The World A Better Place and Still Afford To Eat”? And/or both/either.

This type of program model is defined by developing your funding up-front —
using a combination of grants, corporate underwriting, trade-outs, etc. to
pay for your production costs before you even get to the distribution stage.
Ideally, I’d say, you’d send your programming out over NETA’s satellite link
with no charge to the stations for airing the program (other than a
postcard/email letting you know airdates & response); this helps to
encourage further dissemination of the program & can even make it easier to
find corporate underwriting/grants (more stations are likely to air it if
it’s free to them, and sponsors tend to like wide-spread recognition).
Following this line of reasoning: your program airs, albeit scattered around
the country; you retain all rights to the program; and assorted programming
directors around the nation start to gain appreciation for what you have to
offer. If you create something that provokes a response, something of
quality that people actually find interesting/informative/entertaining, then
the PBS stations & networks of stations will want more programming from you.

If you’re willing and able to provide more programs that are valuable to the
stations, at some point it makes sense to charge for the programs — at
whatever amount the market will bear. Since (following this type of model)
your production costs have been already taken care of, this additional
revenue generated from the stations becomes “profit” or “capital to invest
in your next project.”

For example, put together a documentary on, say, the creativity of pets
(parrots that paint, etc.). Conform it to basic standards (30 minute show =
26:50, 60 min = 57:40; shot with decent DVCAM gear with clear audio, etc.)
and get money from a pet store (a local franchise of a national chain,
perhaps?) for corporate underwriting, as well as a grant from an arts
foundation for promoting the arts, and maybe even Joe’s Texaco ’cause he
once had this hound dog that was sooo funny — using this revenue to balance
your budget for production and postproduction. Research, shoot, and edit the
documentary. Send the documentary out nationwide over a service like NETA
for $50 or so, to public TV stations. Create promotions to spread awareness
of the doc (live event in conjunction with pet store to invite people to
bring their pets to compete for some prize, or some such, and get as much
media exposure as you can, even going on TV/radio morning shows to discuss).
If TV stations like the doc, they may air it (albeit 3 am in Nebraska). Now
you’re the producer of a “nationally-distributed documentary”. Try more
angles for promotion. Send it out over the satellite again to garner more
airtime. Tally up the response & interest and set the stage for creating a
series of docs along the same theme. Move up the ladder for corporate
underwriters based on your success so far (perhaps the corporate HQ for that
pet store will now take your calls?), gaining more funding to flesh out your
production budget to allow you to create 10 30-min shows. Spend the next 12
months putting together your documentaries, sending them off in a timely
manner for distribution for the stations to air for free (via NETA, etc.).

Now you’ve finished your first season, with 11 shows under your belt. Based
on the response to your shows, develop plans for another season. Gather more
grants, more underwriting. Create 15 shows in season two. And since the
stations know what to expect, decide to charge them $100-$300 (based on
market size) per station per episode for season two. Season two ends, with
ever-growing production budgets, more recognition, and now you have 26 shows
under your belt, and perhaps that knocking at your door is a cable channel
eager to sign you up for a development deal (as well as for rights to re-air
your existing shows). Don’t forget to sell copies of the shows whenever
possible (“for a DVD send $35 to…”; “hey, look, this Pet Store is stocking
DVD copies of these shows…”). Take profits from this pet series and
re-invest appropriately, perhaps creating a new doc on this public school
education issue that bothers you. Follow similar model as above. Rinse and

Or, let’s say you put together the initial documentary, get the production
costs covered, send it out to the public TV stations, and there’s little or
no response. You’re out $50 for distribution costs, and there’s probably not
much of a future for that documentary anyway if no one wants to watch it. So
you shrug your shoulders, file it away on your shelf, find another idea and
pursue it to see if it works. Rinse and repeat.

Ideas are powerful. TV stations are hungry. As I like to say, “Our
communities are content-rich, but distribution-poor.” Is it likely that your
documentary will be a “success” (however that’s defined)? I think the more
pertinent question is, How likely are you to do what needs to be done?

Is it at all apparent I’ve been taking some cold medicine? :->