Vote for me!

Vote for, Pedro.

My name is obviously not Pedro, but I would greatly appreciate it if you did vote for my profile on About.Me. I am asking for your prayers, support, and votes. About.me has launched a contest to find new faces for their fall promotion. Selected winners will see their about.me page featured across our campaign, including on a giant billboard in Times Square, a trip to New York City to see their page in lights and attend an exclusive about.me event. 

All you have to do is follow the link below and cast your vote.  This would be an awesome win. Thanks guys!

Here's my link: http://about.me/onlyonejaxter

An Excerpt from My Life Story

My name is Jackie and this is an excerpt from my life story. This excerpt is actually quite an important one, because it is the day I found my calling but not without tragic consequences.

I grew up as one of nine children in Southern California. At a tender age I knew I wanted to tell stories for a living. How and in what manner? Well, that is where my story begins. It all started with my father’s old video camera. My father was a hard workingman of the law who valued his electronic doodads to the point that all of us children were strictly forbidden the use of his electronic toys. Unquenchable curiosity and slight madness drove me to disobey my father’s iron law. My hands trembled as I pulled the prized video camera from its pristine shiny black case. There it was in my hands. I could feel the power of filmmakers and storytellers all bound up in this mechanized contraption. I pressed the little red power button and could feel the camera come to life in my hands. By this point the trembling in my hands was not from the fear of disobedience, but rather from the excitement and thrill of being on the precipice of something ground breaking- Filmmaking!

Or so that is what I thought at 14. I immediately went to work with the camera leaving behind its black camera case splayed out looking not so pristine anymore and rather indignant of the missing camera. I was all over the place with that camera- filming my sisters, filming the dogs, filming reenactments of other films. If heaven consisted of film cameras albeit a stolen camera then I was in it! After the initial excitement of point and shooting the film, I started to feel the artsy-fartsy itch. I then used the old radio flyer wagon out back to make rolling shots. The fact that it was being shot at knee length didn’t matter to me. I would later get fancy with a dining room table chair and roll the camera precariously along on the chair in the wagon. I would climb up in the tree house fort hanging dangerously over the side to get a good shot of those wild Chihuahua dogs in their all-natural habitat. I even tried to bring renewed life to the movie "Indian in the Cupboard" with fresh actors such as my sisters (and myself from time to time). I felt the accomplishment and hard work of being a director/ actor. It was a good day… Until I made the dangerous transition from bona fide filmmaker to international spy. Filmmaker/Director by day. Spy by night. That is when my day turned around.

By this time my father was home, and instead of calling it a day and putting away the camera thereby not getting caught (besides the fact that he would find later much of his camera tape used up). But I didn’t do that. No. The term “to be a fly on the wall” always intrigued me and I always wondered what that would be like. I just had to spy on my family. My brilliant plan consisted of precariously rigging up one of my father’s most prized possessions in the kitchen (because apparently that is where most of the action happened) on a most unstable roll of paper towels. Did I sniff markers as a child? No. What was I thinking then, right? I have no idea, but if I tried to make it in the spy world I would definitely be known as the least subtle especially least methodical spy out there. Not to even mention if I tried this stint as bona fide film maker I wouldn’t have a job. So there was the camera sitting on top of this unstable roll of paper towels catching all the kitchen action while I was sitting across the kitchen trying to act very normal so as to not turn my family on to what I was doing when someone slammed a kitchen drawer shut rather hard. Hard enough that from my position I watched in horror as the camera and the roll of paper towels swayed back and forth as if it was caught up in a major earthquake. An intense fear for my life struck me to my core as the camera fell as if in slow motion to the hard tiled floor with dead “clunk!”. All activity in the kitchen stopped and with all the courage I could muster I picked up the camera and owned the disaster. My short and glorious career as a film maker/ spy in the Hill house ended with the death of my father’s video camera. Needless to say I was in big trouble.

Even though my first run in with the camera was a tragic love story of epic proportions, my love for film could not be dowsed. I was just getting started. I went on to college and studied multimedia and dabbled in pre and postproduction. I am now graduated from college, and while I wait for my bigwig job, I am constantly working on my skills, honing my craft. And now, I sit here in front of my computer practicing my storytelling skills to my readers. Thank you for listening! ❧

Never Forget

I don't think anyone can forget that day in 2001- the day of the attacks. I remember coming out of early morning mass and a church member came running up to my mom and in a rush of words told my mom something about a plane crash. I didn't quite understand yet. As we drove home, we realized the seriousness of the situation as we listened to horrific details of what was happening on the other side of our country. When we got home, my mom flipped on the tv and we saw the horrific raw details of the attacks. I remember quiet in the living room which is highly unusual for my large family. I remember crying as I saw people fleeing, people dying, people in agony. I remember as the death toll kept going up and up. I remember, I remember...

My heart ached than and still aches now for the pain and suffering inflicted on our people. I don't think I shall ever forget that day. I did not know anyone personally involved in the attacks, but my heart breaks for them and my heart goes out to them, my people. In honor and in memory of all the beautiful lives lost that day and to their families, I created a video. It's not much and it's not perfect, but it is from my heart. May God bless and keep close those souls lost and their heartbroken families. God bless America.

"Out of the depths of sorrow and sacrifice will be born again the glory of mankind."

~Winston Churchill

There and Back Again.. and Again

So here I am sitting at my computer listening to Better Son/Daughter by Rilo Kiley lacking the words right now to sum up my summer. (BTW if you haven't heard this song, stop reading now, go down to the player on my blog, and turn it on. Its basically my theme song) 

Well where do I start... *cue theme song* ok so if you didn't know I just recently graduated this past May and finding a job in the media business has turned out to be, well, quite the project if not a depressing one.  You're constantly faced with robotic-feeling career websites meanwhile timidly sending off your hard-worked resume and cover letter into some cyberspace void never to be seen or heard from again.  And you sit at home biting your nails wondering if you could finally be "The One".  After a while of no response besides the unfeeling automated emails, your hope turns into a dead realization that you're not getting the job.  And than you find yourself wondering if you've even got the skills, the creativity, the pizazz to make it in the industry.  Make it or break it, right? Sometimes you even wonder "What the heck was I thinking going into this field.." Trust me- I've been there and back again... and again... and again.. and again several times over.    

Slowly I've begun to come this realization that maybe this process is almost like an unspoken test.  Forget midterms, finals, thesis's.  I'm talking THE big enchilada. Instead of trial by fire this is a trial of perseverance. Its not about how good you are or how well you can create a fierce looking project or even how creative you are. Its all about the perseverance- do you have the perseverance to keep chasing after your dreams no matter how elusive they are? So when they say "Do you have what it takes?" they are really asking "How far are you willing to go to make your dreams a reality?"  No matter where you are at in your journey if you have the love, you will find the perseverance. They are best friends who go hand in hand. If you have that than the world will be your oyster, my friend.

I have yet to land that big wig job, but I will tell you right now- I'm not giving up anytime soon. While I send off my resume into the great unknown cyberspace, I'm crafting my skill. And like anyone else, you have to start somewhere so I've started at a community college. I'm taking a few art classes to keep my mind sharp and my skills deft and believe it or not, I have learned ALOT. Not only that, but I find myself becoming more and more comfortable in programs which leads to a faster and more intricate turnout of projects. I'm only getting better.

So while I sit in the back of a crowded classroom with my laptop computer crammed between a printer and a mammoth desktop monitor working feverishly on projects, I find myself asking "Do you have what it takes, Jackie?" And I respond, "HELL YES, I DO."