Let the Seasons Begin

BRMC

I saw Black Rebel Motorcycle Club last last weekend at the Newport Music Hall in Columbus, just like old times. They've been one of my absolute favorite bands (I have a top ten list, as you might expect) for over ten years now, and I've seen them live four times (three times at the Newport, actually). I didn't have a proper camera with me, as you're usually not allowed to have them at these sorts of places, but wouldn't ya know? They didn't even search bags at the door. I'm probably better off -- though, with some force, I did make my way to the very front -- because it was extremely hot and cramped and rambunctious, as concert crowds tend to be. I'm also not fond of bringing my camera with me to most places, actually (and am perpetually looking for a smaller digital alternative for occasions like this). In any case, the concert was incredible, and I am still reeling from all the emotions, so many days later.

In Bloom

I went on a quickie road trip to DC last month with my friend Susannah. I needed the time away from my city, from my relentless day job, from my emotionally desolate winter. I spent too much money on food and did a lot of walking and saw all of mandatory museums, but didn't really take any photos. In general, I should probably get better at documenting my life post-college... it feels like I have so little to show for three years on my own, but maybe that's the wrong perspective to have. In any case, the time away from Chicago allowed me to experience the first days of spring, and consequently I got hopeful for all the change I seek. I think that every season is valuable. I cannot stand feeling the same way for too long.

Uptown

Here Is the House

In consolidating all the visual randomness that I have on the web, I've decided to officially, and more regularly, curate some of my mobile photos here on my "proper" photo blog and nix my random Tumblr that houses everything I've snapped in passing for the last two years (along with lots of other nonsense that doesn't belong anywhere). I don't know if that makes any sense to you, but it does to me, at least until I come up with a better solution. I am trying to purge the inspirational clutter of my life and start over in some ways.

I also spent all day going through this blog of mine, deciding whether or not I should just get rid of it too -- and start completely over with something new (by the way, does anyone still use Blogger anymore?), but I could not bring myself to do it. There just isn't a reason for it. I even went all the way back to my first entry here and read all of the entries proceeding it in chronological order. And yes, it was a lot of personal and painful and petty and pretty (and not so pretty, really) things to take in at once. In the end though, I'm proud of the work and the honesty I've shared here. So, here is my designated parking space for photos of all sorts. And then my Tumblr will become just a place for other nonphotography matters. Not that anyone is really caring too much.

And so, to play catch-up and to preserve (before the Tumblr abandonment) some images that I've liked from the past five months, the next few posts are all from my telephone, starting with these photos of Dan in my living room, in my kitchen, and on my porch from his visits to Chicago in the winter and spring.

Coca-Cola, Football, Radio Radio Radio...

Summer's nearly gone.

I started off writing a really depressing blog to go along with these photos, but I thought better of it. I've been a very neglectful photographer, and I've felt really aimless. I am only just now taking the difficult though much-needed baby steps toward remerging myself in some sort of creative community so that I can rediscover some inspiration and then, maybe some time in the far off future, I will take more photographs. It's not that I don't care or that I don't want to try. I am exhausted and, to put it vaguely, really struggling with the larger mysteries of life. No, in the end, I don't really know what I want to be when I grow up. I graduated with a passion and a direction, of some sort, in photography, and I moved to this beautiful big city to fully realize the possibilities. But I kept jumping up and down and all around and couldn't get anyone's attention. I didn't know what to do. I had no savings and no job and no plan so I had to start working -- and I mean really working -- long and hard hours at a restaurant so that I could live here. For awhile my photography and my work in the food industry coexisted somewhat. I shot some weddings, some freelance bits here and there, and I even had an exhibit (though somewhat amateur-ly and haphazardly organized on my part) at my favorite little coffee shop this past spring.

Since April, though, I have almost solely focused on being what I hope is the perfect general manager (at previously mentioned restaurant) for my staff. I should be proud that I have stability and that I do my job fairly well. I should be optimistic about the future and my options. I should be grateful that I was promoted and greatly supported (by the owner, operating managers, and a slew of other professionals who know what they are doing in this crazy and, at times, discouraging industry -- not like me) though I'm young, inexperienced, and, well, just generally emotional about life. I have a lot of reasons to feel like I've done a good job, but I don't feel like that. I feel confused and anxious. I feel like I have something inside of me that I've pushed away and totally neglected. It isn't that I don't love my job or the people in my life because of it, but I don't nurture the part of me that has something to say, something beautiful to show. I never thought I was the most creative photographer, but I do have a point of view. Or I did. Maybe I've lost it, or maybe it's just so deeply buried that it feels completely gone.

I am not sure what I am committing to in this blog post, but I want to be held accountable for the simple things that I'm not doing. I don't blame anyone or anything for the overall lack of passion all around me. And so, at the moment, I don't really have much more than these little snaps from my phone from the past few months of summer. It's a feeble statement, but at least I am still half-awake and trying to pay attention.

In New York Freedom Looks Like Too Many Choices

In the stillness of the evening
When the sun has had its day
I heard your voice a-whispering
Come away child
- U2