Showing posts from August, 2020

a time of morning

  Yesterday I awoke to the video of Jacob Blake, a 29 year old Black father, being shot in the back multiple times at point blank range by Kenosha, WI police in front of his three small children. I do not recommend watching the video as it is extremely disturbing in both the act itself and the brashness of its circulation. Many of us who are white were able to see this video, feel enraged by it, and then put the phone down to return to our "normal" lives. This is the privilege of a life unscathed by racism. It is a sick idea that there are those who still doubt the weight of bigotry acting systemically in our world, but I think it is just as sick a privilege to feel justified in sharing these traumatic videos to express outrage while still having the ability step away. Watching people suffer does not enhance their humanity as much as it strips us of our own. This morning I have seen the cesspool of the internet come out to post records of Mr. Blake's criminal history in a

ShePunk Fest 3/6/20

This is the beginning of a massive unloading of all the film I've shot over the course of this year. I bought myself an old Pentax point and shoot for Christmas and starting carrying it around consistently mid-January, not long before the world shut down and changed forever. These pictures remind me of how much I miss live music and photographing people and the way punk music feels when it seeps into your skin alongside a bunch of strangers and friends. I've also included as many links as I could find for the artists pictured. Don't forget to give them some love.  ✹  Jaq of Heart  ✹ ✹  The Rhododendrons  ✹   BANDCAMP ✹  A nnie Hex + Katie Bogle   ✹   BANDCAMP   INSTAGRAM  // Annie Hex INSTAGRAM  +  SPOTIFY  // Katie Bogle  I wasn't able to get any photos of Sweetie , the last band of the night. But they're old friends who recently put out their first album and it's rad. The riffs are catchy and the vocals are tasty.  INSTAGRAM  +  SPOTIFY HEX POETRY APOTHECARY ☼

monday night dinner

I am standing in my kitchen, yellow and dimly lit. The potatoes have been on the stove for a few minutes. Dinner is in its beginning stages. I am spacing out. Today, for no particular reason, waiting for the shallow water to warm up to a boil has left me unreasonably irritated. The water seems to have a personal vendentta against me; liquid refuses to bubble no matter how far I turn the knob or crank the flame. If I had one wish in that moment, one opportunity to have anything in my wildest dreams, it would be for this water to fucking boil. For the heat to instantly arrive into my pot and provide the chemical reaction I need. Dinner could then progress, the night could move forward, I could be on to the next thing. The entirety of my being aches to come up with a way to speed along this process. My mind wanders farther. I ponder best the way to pose all of this out loud. As a passing thought or a dramatic lament, or maybe a series of questions. But every curation of words I come up wi

who cares if nobody cares

I'm still going back and forth about what I want this blog to be. I love to write, but often times I just can't. A mix of depression, anxiety, and general life duties tend to keep me held back more than I'd like. I love to take photos too, but the same roadblocks apply. I'm so overly critical of myself. Any time I'm presented with a time or place to show someone what I do, I find a thousand different reasons to recoil. My head tells me there's so much to lose by taking chances but I know the biggest loss of all is getting into bed full of regret at the end of the day. Those kinds of days add up quick. Almost thirty years of my life have passed and there's nothing I'm better at than keeping myself down. But I don't want this blog to become something I avoid. I would be devestated to find myself too afraid to exist in a space I created myself. This was not made to be a chore or a talent show. I want it free of expectation or guideline or my perfectioni