Los Angeles gave him a decade — a standard he could not unlearn and a fairly clear sense that he could keep doing that indefinitely. The Northwest offered mountains, better coffee, and considerably less certainty. He took it, and found a region full of stories and short on the people trained to tell them.
What happened next is the part worth understanding. He did not solve that alone, and he was never going to. He built the room instead — a Corps of creative and business professionals with twenty years apiece behind them, who came under one roof because they would rather build one serious thing together than six small ones separately.
That room is the institute. Every partner in it carries the client work and carries the next generation, because teaching here is a term of partnership rather than a favour. The young people they train become leaders in this community. That is what paying the region back looks like, and it was always going to take more than one person.
THiNK•GMS runs like a teaching hospital: senior practitioners operate, fellows scrub in. Our junior fellows research, write, shoot, edit, and produce on real engagements with real stakes — supervised at every review gate, credited on every frame.
Fellows get the only education that has ever worked in this industry: reps, with someone watching. Every fellow we train is regional capacity that didn't exist before — which is why we lead with it.
That last line is the one we refuse to leave as a claim. We are researching the regional economic impact of this system in realtime — refining the instrument with every cohort and every engagement — because a house that argues the arts are an economic engine ought to be able to put a number on its own contribution to one. We would rather show you than tell you, so we are building the thing that lets us.

Nonprofit, government agency, or corporation — the method doesn't change. We research the problem, the audience, and the belief you're actually up against, then apply creative thinking to solve it. Perception studies, message testing, trust-signal research — findings that hold up because they were tested against real budgets and real deadlines. The strategy layer comes first; everything downstream gets sharper because of it.
Theirs, first: the junior and founding fellows who come through this house arrive carrying their own IP and their own passion projects, and we develop those with them — not as an exercise, and not on their own time. A fellow's project gets the same room, the same senior attention, and the same finishing standard as an account. That is the clearest statement we can make about what this place is for.
Yours: if you are sitting on a story that should be a format, we develop it with you and we finish it properly. The Untitled Soul Patrol Documentary. A mini-documentary on the Klamath water crisis. The Fab Lab, an original educational program built with OMSI — museum-exhibited and mastered for theatrical DCP. Post-production subtitle work on the Word Is Bond documentary, so it could travel past the room it premiered in. Different partners, different scales, same discipline.
Ours: there is also a shelf in this building that nobody outside it has seen — IP and a piece of technology we are developing for ourselves, because a research institute that only ever researches on commission is not really a research institute. You will hear about it when it is ready to be looked at properly. We are not going to describe it here.
25 years of production discipline from the Senior Managing Partner, and over 120 years counting the full Corps — CNN-featured campaigns, IP consultation and execution, brand films for corporations, and helping people get their documentary projects off the ground — now run as a directed network: our creative direction, our standards, the right crew for the job.
GMS feels like an extension of my organization's staff — they go the extra mile every time. The founder is not only a great business partner but a wonderful human, and he hires the best folks.
They translated and distilled our vision — multiple stakeholders, a short timeline, and they pulled it off. It was a big investment, and it was 100% worth it.
It is such a relief to not have to worry about any aspect of the technical side — because I know they have it handled.
Every engagement starts with the same three questions. What do you actually need people to believe? Who has tried this before you, and what happened? And what would make you say this worked?
Sometimes those answers lead somewhere we are not the right room for. When that happens we say so.
Research engagement, brand film, partnership inquiry, or a question no one else has been able to answer — the desk is open.
Contact Us →This is correct and it satisfies nobody. The follow-up question is always the same — what does that mean — and the honest reply is that we get hired when an organization has a problem that more advertising will not fix. Then we go find out what will.
Most shops do one or the other. Strategists hand you a deck and disappear before anything gets built; production companies build beautifully and never ask whether it should exist. We do both, in that order, on purpose. The research is what makes the film worth shooting. The film is what makes the research worth reading.
Creative work generates jobs, gravity, and identity. Regions that understand this outrun the ones that don't. So we train fellows on live engagements, publish what we learn, and build original IP — because a production company makes deliverables, and the Northwest needs an engine. The client work funds the argument. The argument is the point.

The offer was not what I expected. I had assumed a first job in this industry meant a year of file naming and coffee runs before anyone let me near anything that mattered. Instead I was handed the identity of the institute I had just joined and told to help build it.
What I have worked on since is the THiNK•GMS brand and the causes it serves across the Pacific Northwest — the nonprofits, the mission organizations, the rooms that do not usually get a film crew and a research team. That is the part I did not anticipate. The work is not abstract. Somebody is on the other end of it.
The supervision is the whole thing. Every review gate has a Managing Partner in it, and the notes are direct. I have had work sent back more than once. I have also had my name on the credits of things I am proud of, which is not something most people my age can say a year out of school.
If you are reading this deciding whether to apply: the standard here is high and nobody softens it for you. That is the offer. Take it seriously and it will be the fastest year of your life.
Work he’s proud of ↗
I am from Chicago. I studied English at Portland State, with minors in Writing, Black Studies, and Comic Book Studies — a combination that made perfect sense to me and required explaining to almost everyone else. Then I went back to Chicago for an MFA in Screenwriting at DePaul, and finished with high honors.
Before this I spent about a decade as an art curator and a freelance writer, which is a long way of saying I learned to work without anyone supervising me. That was useful. It was also incomplete. A script is a set of instructions for a room full of people, and until you have watched a room execute them, you are guessing at half of your own craft.
Right now I am writing a comic book mini-series called Airheads with artist Costis Chatzidakis, and shooting Draft Bust — an episodic thriller sports comedy short film series — with Undeveloped Films. And I am here, as a Founding Fellow, on institute work.
What I did not expect was how much of the education happens sideways. You come in for the writing and you end up in a room where somebody senior is explaining why the third act is a scheduling problem, not a story problem. Nobody sits you down for that. You just have to be there when it gets said.
Work he’s proud of ↗You are on live engagements from week one — logging, assisting, sitting in on research and review. You watch how partners make decisions, and you are asked what you think. Nobody fetches coffee here; there is too much actual work.
You own deliverables. You research, write, shoot, edit, and produce with a Managing Partner at each review gate — and the gate is real, which means work comes back. This is where the reps compound and the craft actually arrives.
You stop working only on client engagements and start working on the institute — the brand, the research, the original IP, the causes we take on because they need doing. Founding Fellows shape what THiNK•GMS becomes. There are not many. That is deliberate.
Tell us what you want to learn and what you have already made. Portfolios help; curiosity helps more. We read every one.
Apply for a FellowshipIf your organization exists to lift young people — a nonprofit, a university program, a community initiative — then you are already doing the hard part. You have their trust, and you know who is ready.
What is usually missing is the other half: practitioners with twenty years apiece who will put those young people on live, professional work and stand over their shoulder while they do it. That is the whole design of the Teaching Hospital, and we would like to open it to the people you serve.
Not a workshop. Not a career day. Real engagements, supervised at every gate, credited by name.

Agencies of our size solve seniority by subcontract. When the work gets hard, they find someone. We built the opposite: six Managing Partners, each with a minimum of twenty years inside their own discipline, sitting under one roof and sharing in what the institute builds.
That produces two things a client can actually feel. First, the person who scopes your work is the person who does it — no seniority bait-and-switch between the pitch and the delivery. Second, and this is the part almost nobody replicates: every partner teaches. Interns, junior fellows, and founding fellows all learn from partner-level practitioners on live engagements, not from a curriculum written by someone who left the craft a decade ago.
It is the reason the research holds up. A think tank staffed by researchers who have never shipped anything produces papers. A Corps of working practitioners who have shipped for twenty-five years produces findings you can build on — tested against real clients, real budgets, and real deadlines, then handed down to the people coming up behind us.

Twenty-five years in media, advertising, and entertainment — Los Angeles first, the Pacific Northwest since December 01, 2010. Sets the creative standard for every engagement that leaves the building and decides what the institute researches next.
Statewide public-health campaign featured on CNN; The Fab Lab with OMSI; the Untitled Soul Patrol Documentary; brand film suites for AmLaw-scale firms.
Creative direction, client discovery, and the discipline of researching before you shoot.

Two decades in the edit bay, where the story is actually decided. Owns the finish on every frame the institute delivers — assembly through color, sound, and master — and holds the line on the standard when the schedule argues otherwise.
Theater-mastered documentary finishing; long-form campaign edits under compressed delivery windows; DCP and broadcast masters.
Edit theory, pacing, and how a fellow learns to kill their favorite shot.

Twenty years building the places where brand narrative actually gets tested — sites, platforms, and the measurement underneath them. Turns the institute's research into instruments: the pages, funnels, and trust signals an organization's audience meets first.
Platform builds for reputation-driven firms; campaign microsites with instrumented message testing; accessibility and performance remediation.
Front-end craft, technical standards, and reading what the data is really saying.

Two decades of relationship building across the region — the discipline the institute treats as its primary service. Maps the networks, opens the rooms, and makes sure the work serves the community it was made in, not just the client who paid for it.
He is also a working musician who teaches music, which is not a footnote. The institute's belief that every practitioner should be training the next one is something Mark was already doing before there was a policy for it — and it is why the jazz work on our slate has never been a stylistic preference. It is a room he actually plays in.
Multi-year nonprofit partnerships including Word Is Bond; regional coalition storytelling; live jazz films; mission campaigns for organizations the system overlooks.
Relationship method — mapped networks, earned trust, long cycles. And music, on his own time.

Twenty years of drawing what a camera can't get to. Handles the institute's original IP development, character and world design, and the visual thinking that happens on paper long before anything is scheduled to shoot.
Character and world design for The Fab Lab, our educational program with OMSI; campaign illustration systems; storyboards for narrative and documentary.
Drawing as thinking — boards, visual development, and finding the idea before the budget.

Two decades of design systems and art direction — the layer that makes a brand legible before a word is read. Sets the visual grammar every engagement inherits and art-directs the shoots that have to live inside it.
Identity and design systems for high-touch firms; lettering and illustration systems; exhibit and retail environments; art direction for brand film and stills.
Typography, systems thinking, and why the small decisions are the whole argument.
Our Senior Managing Partner has worked in media, advertising, and entertainment since 2001 — Los Angeles years, studio-grade standards, the school of doing it right because everyone around you does it right.
On December 01, 2010, GMS emigrated north to the Pacific Northwest — and found a region rich in stories and talent, and underserved in the infrastructure to develop either. For over a decade, GMS Media & Advertising built that infrastructure the honest way: client by client, frame by frame.

Our 2025 interns spent the summer on live engagements — call sheets, safety vests, long days in the sun, and review gates that sent work back more than once. They earned their credits the only way anybody does. They worked hard.
They also did this, roughly forty times, usually when somebody was trying to get a clean take. A set that nobody enjoys produces work that nobody enjoys, and the institute has never once confused seriousness with solemnity. They played hard too — and both halves of that are why they got asked back.

This is the oldest photograph we have of Geff Zamor working — headphones around a crew neck, somebody's arm over his shoulder, both of them plainly having a good time on a very long day.
It was taken on the set of Seabiscuit in 2002, one year into a career that started in 2001. Twenty-four years later he is still on set, still with his arm around someone younger than him, and the argument this institute makes about training people is really just this photograph, repeated on purpose.
Not decoration. Not a nice-to-have when the budget allows. A true economic driver — the thing that makes a region worth moving to, worth staying in, worth building in. Creative work generates jobs, gravity, and identity, and the regions that understand this outrun the ones that don't.
That conviction has consequences. It means educating young professionals is economic policy — every fellow we train on real work is regional capacity that didn't exist before. And it means creative thinking belongs on hard problems — trust in the AI era, workforce pipelines, community storytelling — not just on campaigns.

Research — we study organizations, markets, and communication the way a lab studies anything: with method, curiosity, and published points of view. Teach — the Teaching Hospital puts fellows on real engagements under senior supervision, turning every project into a classroom that pays for itself. Build — client work funds the institute; original IP makes it matter beyond any single client.
Around it all stands the Managing Partner Corps — six industry veterans across creative direction, post-production, web development, community relationships, illustration, and design.

Every engagement in order, with the problem and the people attached to each one.
Open the Full Timeline →Sets, crews, and twenty-five years of behaving ourselves approximately half the time.
Open the Gallery →Studio-grade standards learned the only way they can be — surrounded by people who refuse to do it any other way. Broadcast, agency, and entertainment work that set the floor for everything after.
December 01, 2010 — north to the Pacific Northwest. Fourteen years of building regional infrastructure client by client: campaigns, documentaries, exhibited television, and films for the region's most particular organizations.
The bigger question takes over. Research, the Teaching Hospital, original IP, and a Managing Partner Corps — the production house with a brain, and the brain as the business.

hello@thinkgms.com
Vancouver, WA & Portland, OR
The Pacific Northwest, since December 01, 2010
Corporations, government agencies, and nonprofits facing problems that more advertising will not fix — alongside founders and mission organizations building something that deserves to be understood.
You own a discipline outright, with twenty years or more inside it. You'd bring that craft under one roof, teach fellows as a term of partnership, and share in what the institute builds. Inside the house.
A certified vendor working inside our structure — pre-vetted, trusted, called on by name. Not equity and not faculty: a standard met and a relationship earned, engagement by engagement.
partners@thinkgms.com
Vancouver, WA & Portland, OR
The Pacific Northwest, since December 01, 2010
Managing Partner — owns a discipline, teaches fellows, shares in what the institute builds.
Principal — certified and pre-vetted, works inside our structure, called on by name.
Tell us what you are actually facing and we will tell you whether we are the right room for it. Clients of the institute can go deeper — the research in this sector, run against their own organization.
The most expensive decisions an organization makes are made before it has any revenue to justify them. Who this is for. What it is worth. What it is called. Which market it enters first, and which three it deliberately does not. Those decisions get made once, usually quickly, and every subsequent year is spent either compounding them or paying to undo them.
We are engaged at that moment. Market definition, competitive positioning, value proposition, naming and identity architecture, pricing posture, go-to-market sequencing, and the readiness work that has to happen before a launch is announced rather than after. The output is a position an organization can defend, hold, and build on — not a deck.
We have done this for organizations at both ends of the scale: companies with a board, a category, and a great deal to lose, and founders with a conviction and eighteen months of runway. The method does not change. The stakes and the sequencing do.
And because positioning is only as good as its execution, we bring the contacts and competencies to carry it through — research, brand, production, and the operators in this region who can actually deliver. The strategy and the people who execute it sit under the same roof.
Line editing, structural editing, proofing, and the more useful thing underneath all three: deciding whether the sentence is doing the job it was written to do. Grammar is the easy part and it is not the part that costs organizations money.
Most of what we fix is not error. It is a paragraph that says four things when it needed to say one, a headline that is clever instead of clear, or a claim that is technically true and will be read as something else entirely. We would rather have the argument with you than let your audience have it without you.
Product, portrait, environmental, event, editorial, architectural, and the unglamorous documentation nobody thinks about until they need it. On your site, in your building, or on our stage.
We mention volume not to boast but as a warning. The archive is now large enough that reviewing every frame we have taken would occupy a client for roughly three months of continuous watching, without sleeping, and we would not recommend it. What matters is not that there are a great many pictures. It is that somebody decided what each one was for before it was taken.

It is not the sending. Anybody can send. It is the list, the database, the target, and the small details underneath all three — who is actually on there, how they arrived, what they thought they were signing up for, and which of them should be hearing from you at all this month.
This is not spray and pray. It is segmentation, testing one variable at a time, feeding what the test tells you back into the database, and then doing it again. Slower than the alternative and the only version that compounds.
Short story: we can handle all of it for you. The audit, the cleanup, the segments, the writing, the sending, and the honest reading of what came back — including the numbers nobody enjoys.
Every board has a list of things that need doing and no obvious person to do them. A seat has opened and the shortlist is three names long, all of them from the same three rooms. The technology decision needs somebody who actually understands it. The annual report has been due for a month. Somebody has to write the thing before the retreat.
If your board needs a new member, we can help you find one. If your board needs technical help, we can find that too. Governance documents, recruitment, onboarding materials, the presentation that has to land with a funder, the awkward conversation that needs framing before it happens — whatever your board of directors needs, we can help with it.
We are not consultants arriving with a model. We serve at the board’s request, which means the board decides what the work is and we do it properly.
Licensed, insured, and flown by people who understand that the shot is a directing decision rather than an altitude. Coastline, forest, river, ridge, farmland, and the built environment — plus the practical work that pays for the pretty work: site surveys, progress documentation, roof and structure inspection, and the establishing shot that saves a location scout.
The claim in the headline is doing a lot of work, so here is the honest version. An eagle has better access and considerably more flight time. What it does not have is a shot list, a colourist, and somebody on the ground who knows why the light at that hour is the entire reason you are up there.
We have been doing social media marketing since before the internet was wearing short pants, and video production for considerably longer than that. Strategy, calendar, capture, edit, cutdowns, verticals, captions, and the parts nobody enjoys — the posting, the answering, and the reading of what actually happened afterward.
You are just going to have to trust us on this one. Or you can contact us, at which point we will send you an entirely unreasonable deluge of it and you will wish you had taken our word for it.
Layout, production, and placement — the printed piece and the decision about where it should appear. Regional publications, direct mail, programmes, trade press, signage, and the venues where your audience is already standing still.
We are not sentimental about paper. We are sentimental about attention, and print still buys a kind of it that a feed cannot: a thing in a hand, in a house, with nothing next to it competing. The research tells us which rooms your audience is actually in. Print is frequently the answer, and when it is not, we will say so.

There is no shortage of young people here who want to make things. What there is a shortage of is the middle step — the years between wanting to do the work and being trusted with it. That step used to happen inside institutions that no longer hire the way they did, and the young people who cannot find it leave. Most of them do not come back.
We built the Teaching Hospital to hold that step open. Senior practitioners operate; fellows scrub in. Six Managing Partners with a twenty-year minimum apiece, all of whom teach — not as outreach, but as a term of partnership. Every fellow works on live engagements with real stakes, supervised at every review gate and credited on every frame.
It works. We would now like to open it to the organizations who already have the relationships we do not — who know these young people, have earned their trust, and can tell us who is ready.
If that is your organization, this page is the offer.
It is the only method that has ever produced a working professional in this industry, and it is how surgeons, pilots, and tradespeople have always been made. Classroom instruction can teach principles. It cannot teach judgment, because judgment is what you develop by making a decision, being wrong, and having someone senior explain why on the same afternoon.
Simulated projects teach simulated skills. A young person who has only ever made things nobody was waiting for has not yet learned the part that matters — what happens when a client disagrees, a schedule collapses, or the good idea turns out to be unaffordable. We put fellows on paying engagements. The stakes are what does the teaching.
A fellow’s name goes on the work they touched. Not as generosity — as evidence. The single hardest thing for a young creative to obtain is a credible claim about what they have actually done, and an organization that withholds that is extracting labour and calling it experience.
Every young person trained here on real work is regional capacity that did not exist before. They stay, they get hired, and eventually they train somebody else. A region that builds this compounds; a region that exports its ambitious twenty-two-year-olds pays outside firms to do work that could have been done locally, every year, forever.
We meet your team, learn what your young people already do, and find out what you need this to accomplish. No deck. We ask questions.
You choose who comes. You know them; we do not. We will tell you honestly what makes someone ready, and readiness is not the same as polish.
Each participant is placed on a live engagement matched to what they want to learn, with a named Managing Partner responsible for them.
You receive an honest account of what they did, what they learned, and where they stand — written by the partner who supervised them.

We subtitled a film for a nonprofit so it could travel past the room it premiered in. We developed The Fab Lab, an original educational program, with a museum. We have carried university students on live sets and put their names in the credits.
Those engagements taught us something we did not expect: the organizations doing the most necessary work in this region are the ones with the least access to professional craft. Not because anyone excludes them — because nobody ever offered.
We are offering.
No proposal, no commitment, no cost to find out. Thirty minutes and some honest questions about what your organization needs.
Contact UsThis institute says, on nearly every page, that the arts are an economic engine rather than a decoration, and that training young professionals is therefore economic development rather than charity. That is a strong claim. It is also a measurable one, and we would rather be measured than believed.
So we are building the instrument. For every junior fellow and founding fellow who comes through the Teaching Hospital, we are tracking what happens next — where they land, what they make, who they employ, what they teach, and what stays in this region because they stayed in it. The methodology is refined with each cohort, because the first version of any instrument is wrong and the honest thing is to keep sharpening it in public.
What this page is not: a number we have already arrived at and are presenting as settled. There is no figure here yet. When there is one it will arrive with its method attached, including the parts of it that undercut us.
What it will become: a published economic impact study, with the arithmetic shown, the assumptions named, and the uncomfortable findings left in. Until then this page exists to say out loud that the study is being conducted, so that the claim on the homepage is a commitment rather than a flourish.
Fall 2026 cohort.
Applications are rolling — there is no deadline, and there is no advantage to waiting.
fellows@thinkgms.com
Vancouver, WA & Portland, OR
A film degree. A polished reel. Your own gear. A relative in the industry. Experience on a professional set. Confidence — most people who belong here did not feel qualified when they applied.
An inquiry opens when a question keeps recurring across unrelated engagements. Recurrence is the filter — one client's problem is a project; the same problem at four organizations is a research question.
Work is conducted against live engagements rather than in the abstract. Findings are tested on real budgets, real deadlines, and real organizations, which is both the limitation and the point.
Summaries are published openly. Full methodology, figures, and recommendations are released to clients, who may also have an inquiry run against their own organization. Findings that fail are published as well.
How organizations store, retrieve, secure, and pay for what they have already accumulated.
What generates trust in a market where production cost has collapsed and attention has not.
Whether supervised practice builds regional capacity faster than instruction, and what that is worth.
The arts as economic infrastructure — jobs, retention, and the gravity that holds talent in a place.
The finding itself is demographic: across developed economies, fertility tracks the gap between what women and men actually do at home. Countries that modernised fastest — Japan, Italy, Greece — saw the steepest declines, because opportunity for women arrived far ahead of any change in household expectation. Where growth was slower and domestic norms moved with it, birth rates held up better.
We are not a demographics practice, and we are not going to pretend this is about us. We are following it because it is the cleanest recent example of a problem that money could not solve and behaviour could — and that is the shape of nearly every problem organizations bring to this desk.
Governments spent a decade treating declining birth rates as a pricing question. Subsidies, credits, bonuses. The incentives were real and they largely did not work, because the thing being decided was never economic. It was a judgment about whether a specific person could be relied upon. No amount of money answers that question, and the campaigns built on the assumption that it would were answering a question nobody was asking.
That is a research failure before it is a policy failure. It is also the failure we are hired to prevent. An organization convinced its problem is awareness will buy awareness; if the actual problem is that nobody believes them, the spend produces nothing and the diagnosis survives, because the campaign is what gets audited and the question never does. Refining the question is not a preliminary step. It is the step.
There is a second reason it stays on the desk. Goldin’s mechanism is credible commitment — the difference between saying you will carry half and having demonstrated it. That is the same currency reputation-driven organizations trade in, and the same one our first inquiry is chasing: in a market where anyone can generate a convincing claim, the only signals left standing are the ones that cost something to produce.
Read it at The Atlantic ↗Every engagement adds frames to this. If you want your organization somewhere in the next twenty-five years of it, the desk is open.
Start the Conversation