“Can I take your picture from the other side of the road?” The stranger chuckled, “Sure.” We exchanged names followed by an awkward handshake. “I think I’ve seen you around before,” said Jim. I responded with, “I saw you on this exact bench last week.” Jim said this was one of the many spots. I proceeded to ask where Jim was from. Jim shyly laughed and said, “I don’t really feel like talking.” I ceased my questioning, said farewell, and continued walking.
I have to start blogging, or I’ll never forgive myself for wasting a perfectly good skill. I think most people are good at writing, at least in the sense of having something worth saying. It is the “how” that trips people up or gives them anxiety about writing. For example, the quotes around the word how… may or may not be necessary. I am also really bad at using commas, see.
I wouldn’t even consider myself a good writer, but that’s mainly due to low self-esteem and the fact that I’ve fallen out of the habit of writing every day. It’s just like any other muscle that needs to be worked and stretched and occasionally injected with steroids.
If you’ve been reading all of this, I assume you’re wondering why there is a strange photo of me wearing overalls and posing somewhat like Billie Eilish on her album cover for “WHEN WE FALL ASLEEP, WHERE DO WE GO.” The overalls were a stylistic choice, but the pose was merely a coincidence. I just wanted a photo to go with this first post I’ve made in several months.
The real tea is that I’ve quit my job and have no idea what’s next. I know I want to do photojournalism and tell cool stories, but the whole “making money” part is the dilemma I keep running into. Who knows what the future holds, but for now, I will write at least once a day.
Ttyl.
I graduated and feel totally unprepared. I have a day job that pays the bills, but I would love to start writing again. Honestly, I just want to tell stories about people: how they navigate the world, how they see the world, why they do what they do, and just who they are in general.
By now, it should be clear that I don't know what I'm doing. My last actual blog post was in July of 2020…
I have this crippling fear of starting something by simply starting it and an unrealistic view of people's expectations.
You know that scene from Perks Of Being A Wallflower when they drive through the tunnel and have that euphoric feeling of the universe while David Bowie plays on the radio…well, my brain keeps telling me, "just wait for that moment, and then you can start creating." If I continue to listen to that lie, then I'll never do anything. So here's to doing it, even if it doesn’t feel like standing up in the back of a truck going 60 mph.
I'm going to start casual conversations with strangers, then post about it on Instagram. It's not much, but it's a step in the right direction. I hope to start more extensive projects better suited for the blog platform soon.
I traveled a long distance to hear a sad, quiet man sing songs about his old friends. There was a blanket of snow on the city that night. Our ride pulled over outside the venue, and I stumbled out into the snow. The falling snow softened the harsh growling of snowplows. A skinny man finishing off a cigarette caught my eye; ribbons of smoke slipped from his lips as he flicked the cigarette into the snow. I held the door as he walked in. Gently, he said, “Thank you.” I realized it was the man whom I came to see. I didn't say anything. I just watched as he quietly slipped through the unsuspecting crowd like a ghost; no one else noticed him. The opener started playing, and we fell into a dream.
This was an Instagram post that I made back in 2019 about a show I saw in Portland, ME. The quiet man is Andy Shauf, and he's one of the best singer-songwriters I've happened to come across. From his story-telling lyrics to the openers at his shows, Shauf can craft an intimate experience on a mass scale. This is especially noticeable in the opening acts of the show. Of the two shows I've attended, he's had Julia Jacklin, out of Australia, and Haley Heynderickx, out of Oregon, who have established themselves in the indie circuit. I believe all three artiest are of the same caliber, which speaks to the creative genius of Shauf. I loved going to his shows because he cares about music so much that he shares the platform with people who push him to be a better artist.
I really miss shows. I haven’t really been to a proper show since before…you know…Wow, it’s crazy that I don’t even have to say it but anyone reading this knows exactly what I’m referencing.
I exclusively take pictures of Rachel. I think it’s because I feel comfortable around Rachel. Recently, I’ve come to notice that I’m a selfish photographer; I don’t like stepping out of my comfort zone. I’m always scared to take pictures of other people because I fear they won’t like my perspective. I’m afraid to fail. I tend to believe the lie that if I fail, then it means I’m not good.
I want to take pictures of other people. I want to become workplace associate with failure. I don’t want to “like” failure, but at least have an admiration for it. So I guess this is an invitation of sorts. Let me know if you want to hang out or do something that can be photographed—It can be as simple as going to the grocery store.
You can contact me directly or send an email through the “Contact” button on my about page.
I like film: the rough mechanical sound of the shutter opening and closing; the texture that is almost tangible when I see the finished product; the way it captures light.
One of my favorite things about film is the process: Loading the film, being able to get the light meter working and figuring out all the settings. But the best part is the aspect of time. It can take a week to use a roll of film or it can take several months and the results are always surprising. I love how shooting with film allows you to capture images but still be present and in the moment—I often get caught up in trying to get the right shot or looking back through the images and trying to adjust and tweak all the little details. With film, you can take the shot and you’re done. It reminds me of when I would collect caterpillars from the back yard and desperately wait for them to turn into butterflies; always something beautiful and unexpected. Photography has a way of doing that, but film just has that added element of surprise which never gets old.
Also, anybody can go to Goodwill/thrift store and get a decent point&shoot film camera and start sharing their own perspective.
It was unsettling; we knew the city was just ahead but we couldn’t see it. All we could see was the bloodshot night and random cars every few minutes. We talked the whole time but don’t remember what was said.
Jack would keep riding ahead and come flying out of the red mist.
We carried on, in this burning atmosphere. We were happy.
I’m becoming more comfortable with photos that aren’t perfect. It’s not being lazy or communicating that I can’t take good photos, but it’s more of an acceptance of the experience. I struggle with the idea that if the photos didn’t turn out “right,” then I won’t share the experience.
If I can be frank, the experience rarely looks or feels like the photos. I try my best to take photos in way that are simple enough to stand on their own, be inspiring, and maintaining an accurate representation of the experience. And sometimes the experience was out of focus. Besides, who says your subject has to be in focus to be inspiring.
Ultimately, I’m being selfish when I assume other people’s perception of my work. At times, even my own perception can’t be trusted.
She paints freckles on her face. I sit awkwardly in the dry bathtub with my legs hanging over the side. She’s staring intensely at the mirror. Why do you do that? It’s fun. I don’t think it looks good. I’m not doing it for you. I know you’re not doing for me? Then why do you care? I don’t want you to feel like it’s necessary. I just said I think it’s fun. Okay.
A place to live
A place to give
A place to sleep
A place too cheap
A place in motion
A place of commotion
A place to love
A place to hate
A place to be.
The Jail House Brewing Company was established in 2009. The Jail House had a space next to the building where they had live music. The Jail House is creating a community. On November 17, 2019, I went to hear a local artist by the name of Heavyn Leigh, preform at the Jail House located in Hampton, GA. The Bartender, who also hosts trivia nights, bingo and karaoke, believes the Jail House has a real effect on the community. “I think it brings people together. I do notice a sense of camaraderie and family, like a home away from home feeling.” Only within the past year, has the Jail House created an upstairs space specifically for live music, games, and special events.
Leigh had such a powerful, yet inviting voice. She mentioned her childhood crush being Johnny Cash, which is evident in her ability to connect with her audience, much like Cash did. One of the fans, Emma, said she enjoys what the Jail House is doing. “Breweries are getting more and more popular. “I think it’s good and modernizing Hampton. It’s bringing new culture to the city.”
After her set, I interviewed Heavyn Leigh and asked about where she got her start. She is originally from Georgia, but her music career started in Florida. Upon moving back to Georgia, the Jail House was the first place that hired her. Leigh gladly admits, “I now play here on and off; pretty much whenever I need a gig…It feels comfortable.” Most artists have that place where they go if all else fails, a place filled with familiar faces and good vibes.
Leigh has always said she does not want to be on the radio, which may seem odd for someone who’s trying to make a living, but there is a method to the madness. The relationship between an artist and a fan is the very thing that allows making music to be sustainable. Leigh believes success can take many forms.
Leigh explains her reasons for not going on the radio, “It’s the connection with your fans! I met Megan and Ruddy [people in the audience] in there, and you just can’t do that on a stage in front of millions of people. When you listen to an artist before they’re mainstream, you love them, and then they get mainstream and you don’t love them anymore. It’s because they don’t have that connection with you anymore. They’re on a different tier than you now.”
Were it not for a community, the cities we live in today would cease to exist. There is a multitude of factors within creating and maintaining a community, but the most important is a relationship. There is a connection that all people wish to have with one another. The connection can range from romantic relationships, family, professional and deeply impactful friendships. All of these connections are happening in Hampton and the Jail House Brewing Company is right in the middle of it.
breath drenched in coffee
the sound of static rushing through your hair as you put on your favorite sweater
the feeling of a cold glass window
the stiffness in your hands
The flames from sunset still smoldering on the horizon. The gravedigger hasn't much time. The haunting sound of air cutting through dry grass creeps alongside the wooden box. The shovel scrapes against the rocky soil.
This sculpture was inspired by John Grade, a Seattle based artiest who focuses on large institutions, and his desire to look at how humans and nature interact. The bird house was made from old wood found around the house and fastened by wooden pegs; no nails or screws were used. Grade always returns his work back to nature after he’s done with it and that’s why I felt it was so important to follow that same process; I hope to evoke the same emotions with my own art. Grade never specifically states why it’s so important for him to give the art back, but I like to believe he’s simply trying to demonstrate how the relationship should look between us and nature. Material art should be borrowed, not stolen.
not a bad day.
Scenes from Milledgeville and a backyard banger put on by the Wright Brothers Band.
From left to right: Ryan (our dearest friend), Benjamin (me) and Daniel (my brother). We have been friends since before we could remember. Dan and Ryan are a year older than me, but that never really made a difference growing up together. In the early years, the only thing greater than our imagination was our hunger for adventure. We loved building forts, playing army, skinny dipping, climbing trees, and always being barefoot. I can't recall a time that we ever played video games or watched television. Since Ryan lived far away, we always took advantage of the time we had together. I can remember on many occasions when one or all of us would get hurt, but there is one that stands out: When we were in elementary school, we went on a camping trip with a whole group of other kids. On the day we left for the campsite Ryan had a cast removed from his arm; it had taken three months to heal. We arrived at the campsite and just before dinner we and the other boys decided to play a game of touch-football. By the end of the game, Ryan was on his way to the hospital.
As we grew older, our adventures grew wilder. Our favorite one was camping and rappelling on Mout Yonah. We reached the summit just in time to watch the sunset. While watching the sun go down no one said anything, we were just happy to be together again.
Cut to present day: Dan and Ryan have both graduated from college and I'm going into my Junior year. I would have graduated at the same time, but I took two years off to work in the mountains. Our friendship has remained strong through the years even if we went several months without even saying a word to each other. My favorite aspect of our relationship is that during the times we are apart we can come together again and pick up right where we left off; no shallow small talk.
Today is more emotional than most because Ryan is embarking on a month-long journey to California with a slight detour through Canada. He will be "dirt bagging" (living in his car) all the way there. Once in California, Ryan will be teaching an outdoor ecology class to 4th-6th graders in Santa Cruz. Also, at the end of July, Daniel is going on an adventure overseas. You can imagine my frustration with the mundane task of finishing college while my best friends are living out some of our childhood dreams. I just wish we could do them together.
On the days leading up to Ryan's departure, we taught him how to drive the tractor. He also helped us plant some corn and sunflowers
We used to talk, as kids, about being all grown up and doing big things, never expecting that day would actually come. Alas, here we are looking back on our lives and missing the days when we only worried about yellow jackets and falling out of trees. There is a blissful calm that comes with nostalgia. We want to chase that feeling for as long as possible and I think it is that feeling that drives us to new adventures. To be honest, we may never see one another again or at least not all at the same time, but we will always have the memories of growing up together. The bond we have is created by those memories and nothing can ever take those memories away. I hope we will all be back together again, but for now, all I have are the memories. Our minds are still rushing through the treetops and our hearts still beat to the sound of bare feet running through the forest.
A few weeks back, me and my sister Rachel, discovered that one of the walls in my room doubles as a perfect backdrop for portraits. Up until then, the wall was hidden by all of my hanging clothes and a disorganized stack of shoes; It wasn't long before we had the clothes and shoes moved to expose a bare white wall. Now we have a quick way to waste away the day. I hope to make this experience available for other people, but for now, it's just Rachel.
Most of my pictures are of Rachel, not only because it is really convenient, but she is someone that I can be really comfortable with and vice-versa. Also, she now has an endless amount of photos to choose from.
