ABOUT
Music isn’t background for Errin, it’s architecture. It’s how she thinks, how she sees, how she writes. Music videos raised her. The 90s and early 2000s taught her that a three-minute visual could hold an entire world: specifically, Garbage’s Only Happy When It Rains, Radiohead’s Karma Police, and Fiona Apple’s Criminal. MTV played endlessly in her Montgomery, Alabama, bedroom, a film school she didn’t yet know she was attending.
As her environment changed, so did the art that shaped her. Indie music carried her through her formative teenage years. Indie and alternative music carried Errin through her formative pre-teen and teen years, sharpening an emotional literacy that later translated into visual thinking. At the same time, her eye for cinematography took shape through films like The Departed, Watchmen, and The Dark Knight, where music, mood, pacing, and shadow were as narratively vital as dialogue.
While studying English Literature at The University of Alabama, the release of Scott Pilgrim vs. The World and its pivotal soundtrack became a quiet touchstone; she sweetly still recalls her days crossing “The Quad” with Metric blasting in her ears, sensing how image and sound could fuse into something kinetic and interior. Alongside her literary studies, she examined Caravaggio’s chiaroscuro, Gentileschi’s depictions of violence and tenderness, Poe’s theatrical darkness in The Tell-Tale Heart, and Dante’s divine architecture in The Inferno, teaching herself Italian to encounter Alighieri’s work in its original language.
These early intersections of music, literature, and image continue to inform her approach to visual storytelling today.
Over the next decade, Errin built a career managing global localization projects, editing editorial workflows for luxury magazines, and providing manuscript editing and property marketing services. She earned a Master of Science in Publishing, drawn to the intersections of music copyright, visual culture, and editorial storytelling across magazines and film studios.
In August 2025, just five months after being laid off, she stopped forcing a narrow path and began listening more closely. She picked up her electric guitar for the first time in twenty years. She attended concerts alone, from Garbage in Austin (styled as an homage to Shirley Manson), Bush, Kings of Leon, Nine Inch Nails, and Interpol. From the crowd, likely in the pit, she studied stage production, lighting, presence, how sound occupies space, and how atmosphere becomes narrative. She realized this was the language she wanted to speak.
Soon after, Errin began writing what she’d been quietly imagining for decades: music video treatments, short films, and commercial concepts. Stories where grief looks like wilted flowers on a green velvet sofa. Where political violence becomes a damp cell and an unreachable meadow. Where a childhood bedroom holds the ghost of who you were becoming.
She’s teaching herself to think like a DP, a music supervisor, and a director. Her inspirations span decades and mediums from the industrial elegance of Nine Inch Nails’ scores, to the atmospheric tension of Radiohead and Interpol (a band she insists should be used more in film, a promise she intends to keep), to the literary grit of Fontaines D.C. — whom she affectionately calls “the Irish Oasis” — to the unapologetic presence of Shirley Manson, Courtney Love, Rihanna, and countless other women who shaped her.
To stay grounded in the process, she carries her Polaroid and Kodak i60 film cameras wherever she goes, and still brings out her father’s 80s Ricoh for special moments. She studies analog systems, such as the Studer A-80 tape machine, drawn to creative practices that are tactile, intentional, and human.
From music video treatments to film editing, television writing, and music supervision, Errin is building toward the career she wants — one shaped by sound, image, memory, and meaning.