Pat Lee
makes software now.
Before that, two decades behind a camera. Before that, a nine-year-old running title scrollers on a Tandy 1000HX from Radio Shack. pixeLantern is the studio where those habits show up in Swift.
For the people who skim
Six dots on a thirty-seven-year line.
- 1989Tandy 1000HX, age 9
Mom walked into a Radio Shack and walked out with 256K of RAM and no hard drive. A piano teacher who moonlighted as a computer enthusiast started teaching him BASIC between scales.
- 1992Middle-school newsroom
Chief cameraman and editor of Bighorn News Network — a daily student broadcast edited tape-to-tape on a Video Toaster running on an Amiga.
- 1994First Mac
A PowerMac 6100/60AV with a video in/out port. Patched straight into the family VHS camcorder. Titles over home video at fourteen.
- 1999Into fitness media
Joined a small media company covering the bodybuilding circuit. Tape editing, then non-linear, eventually the first bodybuilding site to go database-driven.
- AlongsideFreelance behind the lens
A photography practice that quietly specialized itself into a career — athletes nobody else was photographing, a following in the millions.
- NowpixeLantern
The studio where the tools photographers actually needed finally exist.
The long way here
Photographer first. Everything else is load-bearing.
The skillset has roots. Pat's first computer was a Tandy 1000HX — a 1989 Radio Shack purchase, 256K of RAM, no hard drive, bought by a mother who had reasons. A piano teacher who happened to be a computer enthusiast started teaching him BASIC between scales. By nine, he'd figured out how to trick Banner Creator's preview mode into scrolling titles through the Tandy's composite output onto a television screen. Most kids that year were playing Oregon Trail. Pat was building a title generator.
The first Mac arrived in 1994 — a PowerMac 6100/60AV with a video in/out port, patched straight into the family VHS camcorder. Around the same time, a middle school started a daily news broadcast and needed someone who could run a Video Toaster on an Amiga. He was twelve. By the end of high school he'd been on-camera for a local kids show, interned in post at the PBS affiliate, and logged enough hours in community-access edit suites to get certified in directing, technical directing, and audio engineering.
Video production became paid work at fifteen — the kind of thing only the late 90s made room for. At eighteen, he took a job with a small media company covering the bodybuilding circuit. He stayed sixteen years. Somewhere in that run, photography stopped being the side project and became the reason clients kept calling.
For most of those years the arrangement looked like this: a full-time role in media production, and a freelance practice photographing athletes nobody else was photographing — male physique, at a time when the industry had decided the market lived elsewhere. Being the default in an underserved niche turned out to be a reasonable way to spend a decade. A Facebook following in the millions. A portfolio that had quietly specialized itself into a career.
The subjects are famously particular. A bodybuilder three weeks out from Olympia can tell — to the tendon — whether a shot reads as conditioned or flat. Twenty years of getting that right teaches you the difference between detail that earns its place and detail that's just there.
The video work sat in front of a larger back office. The first bodybuilding website to go database-driven was his, in 2002 — SQL Server and ASP, later migrated to PHP and MySQL. FileMaker Pro and MS Access handled the daily content ops. Disc-on-demand duplication ran in-house on Primera machines. YouTube CMS permissions and match-policy admin, commerce integrations across half a dozen carts. None of it was the advertised job. All of it was the actual one.
Shortform
The CV, in the voice of someone who finds CVs embarrassing.
Tools he brought to the bench
Four disciplines, one opinionated hand.
The apps aren't a career change so much as the next room in the same house. Every tool below shows up somewhere in how pixeLantern thinks about pixels, motion, hierarchy, and restraint.
Why the studio exists
The apps he wanted didn't quite exist.
After twenty years of exporting stills and videos, the gap kept showing up in the same place. The tools photographers actually reach for were bloated, subscription-happy, or a browser tab in a costume. pixeLantern started because one person eventually gets tired of waiting for the right software to arrive.
flexGrid began as a way to preview shoot loops without building a timeline. flexLog began because every workout app wanted to be a social network. flexCast began because scripts live in documents and podcasts live elsewhere. The studio ships those opinions as native apps — private, one-time purchase, small enough to know what they're for.
The through-line is the photography. Every pixel load-bearing. Nothing filler.
Elsewhere on the internet.
The photography lives at patlee.net. The apps live here. Emails go to a real person who reads them.