What is the "idea thing" I am talking about? The simple—but astonishing—truth that everything begins as an idea, a spark. Sometimes that spark is half-baked or downright wild, yet given enough time, the right pieces fall into place and it ignites into something spectacular.
My own sparks or boredom maybe, appeared in middle school. I’d huddle over a clunky Realistic tape recorder, staging one-take dramas with voices, sound effects, and a scratchy needle-drop soundtrack. Those homemade “radio plays” taught me how music frames emotion, how a well-timed door slam can paint an entire scene—and how exhilarating it feels when it all clicks.
Fast-forward a few years to the production room at my hometown radio station. The smell of reel-to-reel tape, the glow of VU meters—I was in my element, honing skills with real gear and real deadlines. Then came October 1985: an advanced four-track production seminar in San Francisco was calling my name. Bad weather had other plans. A brutal low-pressure system socked in the Matanuska Valley, grounding every flight out of Juneau. I was stranded.
When I finally reached the city, I’d missed the first two days of class—but the universe had a consolation prize. Our group of Western Public Radio producers took a field trip to Skywalker Ranch, where legendary sound designer Randy Thom guided us into a mixing suite. On the screen: a raw, black-and-white work print of Raiders of the Lost Ark. Indy swung over the yawning pit and fell short—no color, no score, no sonic fireworks. From that blank canvas, Randy rebuilt the scene layer by layer: color blooming to life, the hollow echo of the cavern, boots scrabbling for purchase, whip crack, a flutter of bats, even the satisfying crunch of celery standing in for thick brittle roots. Finally, John Williams’s score swept in, and a dash of digital polish sealed the deal. The sequence morphed from rough sketch to cinematic magic right before our eyes, and I was forever hooked.
In that moment, I knew I wanted to be the sound artist Randy might someday call—whether he realized it or not. I never did make the full leap into Foley or big-studio sound design, but the passion never left me. I guess that audacious idea is still my North Star, guiding every project I take on in one form or another. Because great work—like all grand adventures—always starts with a spark.
