I picked up a video camera at 12 and never really put it down. What started as a kid pointing a lens at everything eventually turned into a film degree from Biola, late nights at a post-production house ingesting Beta SP tapes, a stint as a Jungle Cruise skipper at Disneyland — yes, really — and eventually a Telly Award for storytelling work at Cox Communications. By 2004, I had started my own studio. I've been doing this ever since.
About the name. My mom was born in Hawaii, and I grew up with the islands woven into my life — the food, the culture, the unhurried pace of a place that doesn't rush anything. I love pineapples. I love a good mai tai. I'm also a devoted fan of Psych, a show where the main character brought pineapples as gifts to basically everyone he met — a habit I've since adopted myself. When it came time to name the studio something that wasn't just my own name, I wanted something that made people smile the moment they heard it — something relaxed, creative, and a little unexpected. Spicy Pineapple Studio is the name equivalent of a great tiki bar: laid back, memorable, and not taking itself too seriously. People always comment on it. That's exactly the point.
I run this studio solo, which means when you work with Spicy Pineapple Studio, you work with me. I'm the one on the call, in the edit, thinking through your content strategy, and still here three years later when something needs updating. That continuity matters to me. Some of my client relationships have lasted more than two decades. I think about that as the goal, not the exception.
My work is shaped by what I believe — that integrity in how you do business is as important as the quality of what you produce, that trust is built over time, and that the organizations worth working with are the ones that actually care about what they're saying. At home, I'm husband to Leslie and dad to Canon. That grounds everything else.
If you have a message worth sharing, I'd like to help you find the best way to say it.