2 October 2018

Y’all. I’m coming up on a year in.

I went from a vague idea that I had at 17,
to taking my first unsteady steps,
to throwing myself completely into this.

I wasn’t sure where I’d end up, and I’m still not.
But I’m having fun, and I’m increasingly proud of the work I’m doing.
I’m endlessly inspired by every conversation I share with another creator.
I’m amazed at how I’m growing, as a person and as a creator.
I started with a little dream, and now it’s growing, every day.

Here’s to another year.


22 July 2018

My most recent batch of photos features Back From Zero, from their first EP release show at The Knitting Factory.
Watching my friends grow from playing in dingy spaces where no one could hear them (not that there’s anything wrong with that, you gotta start somewhere) to playing bigger, more esteemed venues has been heart warming, and fills me with endless pride. Seeing them finally put together the EP after countless hours of hard work is awe inspiring. Being able to get on stage with them and wrangle trying to get the perfect shot and also not be in their way was the most fun I’ve had in a while. I feel incredibly lucky to be part of the process.

Sitting around in the green room with them last night before their set, we had a long conversation about that process.

The sacrifices that get made along the way.

“How many days of work did you miss because of a show? How much time were you away from home in the beginning?”

Last night I watched one of my best friends play in a venue that he’s dreamed about performing.

But the thing is, that took years to get to. He’s putting aside time with his family, sleep, money.
Running from an early morning shift to practice to sound check to show.
Every week, there’s hours blocked out for practice that he could just as easily spend at home, that I’m sure some days he’d prefer to spend at home.

None of it goes without sacrifice, but the beginning stages get looked over all the time. No one talks about how they got here. How they “made it.”
Granted, “making it” is subjective. Everyone has different milestones in mind. But what about the before? The process? The sacrifices along the way?

“To me, the passion is more important.”

3 July 2018

Someone asked me how, as a creator, do you keep your momentum?
While I wish I had a simple answer, I don’t.

This, to me, is equal parts compulsion and effort.
Sure, there’s a driving force in me that gives me no other choice but to create.  I don’t know how to function without the outlets I’ve cultivated over the years. I can’t imagine not doing it.

But it doesn’t go without effort. Trying to make the hurricane in your brain make sense to an outside party is difficult at best. Doing it within the spectrum of a specific medium (or several), more so. Finding the delicate balance between giving in to compulsions and not forcing things just to please an audience is probably more difficult than the prior two combined.

But I couldn’t imagine ever stopping.

1 February 2018

One of the things no one ever mentions about being a creator (regardless of your preferred medium) is how it’s as rewarding as it is taxing.

There’s so much work that goes in to every photo, written piece, song, what have you, but because no one ever mentions the actual process, it forms this disconnect between creator and audience. There’s a certain level of intimacy that comes with exposing the process, and it’s indescribably difficult to be that open and raw, especially with perfect strangers. It’s so much easier just to present your work and walk away after the show. No one begs to mention the sleep deprivation, frustration, blood, sweat, and tears.

I want to bridge the gap.

This is my way of maintaining sanity, whether I’m strumming mindless notes together on my guitars until I stumble upon the perfect order to form a melody, or climbing scaffolding to show every angle of an experience that words cannot adequately describe. It makes every drop of blood, every drip of sweat and weary movement worth it.

What’s it worth to you?


“Not sure why I’m even writing this. But I guess it feels right. It sort of feels like I have to-like an exorcism.”

“A Departure”, La Dispute, Wildlife

31 January 2018

One of the biggest (and hardest to answer questions) I’ve gotten continuously since starting this is, why?

The actual story of how it came about isn’t heart wrenching, or climactic.

The answer is two-fold.

I was presented with an idea, and I just expanded upon it.

But the bigger part of it was, I felt like no one in the industry I had dove head first into was asking any questions that actually mattered, or at least none I wanted the answer to. There are artists that I have admired and followed for years, and yet I had never seen or read anything about them that I actually wanted to know.

Did you ever sacrifice all you had to do what you love?

What was that like?

Was it worth it?

Did you fear it might not be?

Why was no one asking?

So I started to.
And I’ve gotten some truly inspiring perspectives.

I’m sympathetic to the struggles of artists, being a life-long one myself.
But why does no one ever ask why we do it?