Why I do it.
on creative burnout, dreams coming true, and the people behind it all.
First of all, welcome back. I’m sorry I haven’t been around for a bit. Life is crazy, the world is crazy, and I needed to take a step back for a bit. I have drafted multiple entries (6 to be exact), but none of them felt authentic. I felt like I was trying to force words onto the page without really feeling or understanding what they truly meant. I just felt heavy and empty. That weight was agonizing. But, with a small respite, my flame has grown a bit and I’m feeling the push of creativity come back.
Let me catch you up on what has happened since we last crossed paths:
I worked backstage at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Induction Ceremony handling awards and meeting people such as:
Cher
Ozzy Osbourne
Jack Black
Dave Matthews (and Band)
Julia Roberts
Dua Lipa
Mary J. Blige
Peter Frampton
so many others it was actually insane
Immediately flew to Asheville to be reunited with Hannah Davis of BANGS Shoes to shoot for a campaign around raising funds for recovery from Hurricane Helene
Bought a new car (RIP to the Subaru)
Made some important progress in therapy
Documented a backyard wedding of two friends I made through the music scene
Went hiking in the Cuyahoga National Park
Watched a ton of movies
Played an embarrassing amount of video games
Hung out with my friends
Visited my mom’s family in the mountains of Pennsylvania
Photographed some of my favorite shows of 2024.
Felt really, really down about being so burnout and depressed that I couldn’t bring myself to create anything
I truly think it is a gift to be able to be so vulnerable, especially here on the internet. Life isn’t always curated and aesthetically pleasing. Being an artist can be really exhausting and defeating, especially when you struggle to say no to opportunities and tend to pour your heart into every project. Having big emotions can be a lot.
I have been thinking a lot recently about my work; why I pursue photography and invest so much of myself into it. And the truth is, I don’t have some philosophical and life-changing answer.
I just truly love taking pictures and can’t get enough of it.
I love my day-job and the opportunities it brings. I love getting to adventure and explore and meet new people through my craft. I love singing and performing my music. Nothing, though, compares to the feeling in my very soul when I am waiting in that photo pit. The anticipation and excitement of what I am about to witness and experience. The darkness before the explosion of color and energy. The artistry I have the honor of documenting. I was recently discussing this topic with a friend and he assured me that my passion is vivid and visible. Anyone who knows me can see it radiating off of me.
Of course, I have my existential moments where I ask myself, “What is truly the point of my passion? Am I doing anything significant? How am I contributing anything to this world by taking my silly little photos? Why does any of this matter?”
And then it hit me.
My photography isn’t about me. It’s about everyone else I am surrounded with.
It’s to document the quickest of moments so they aren’t lost to time. It’s for the people who want to remember their favorite night. It’s for the artist onstage who may forget about moments from their set because it was all a blur. It’s about showing people the beauty in the places they may not think to look. It’s about bringing a person’s vision in their mind to life. To translate their idea into a tangible image. To bring people together and be a friend to a stranger, whether or not they may know they need it. To catch the raw and vulnerable pieces that slip out of a person while they perform and hand it back to them to show them the power their presence has. To immortalize the pieces of time someone may not have otherwise remembered.
To make people feel seen.
Some recent experiences have really highlighted this. Yes, working one of the biggest concerts in the world was unforgettable, but sometimes it’s the smaller shows that have that emotional impact on you as an individual. And these are moments and people I never want to forget or take for granted.
Like how after I zipped up the dress of the sweetest girl in the bathroom, she insisted on walking me to my car at the end of the night.
Or being reunited with the band Native Sun (comprised of the kindest people) after two years and watching them bring an insane energy to the room.
Talking to my touring friends, Nick and Kyle, about Gossip Girl and life as they strike the stage after a sold out show for Games We Play.
To then immediately standing in the middle of the snowy street at 11:30pm to do a spontaneous photo and video shoot for their new band.
Building legos backstage before the set with an artist I was connected with 24 hours before the show.
These are the types of memories I never want to be forgotten. The most human, the most meaningful. The moments of anticipation, of energy, of pure fun.
Last week, I was caught off guard when I went to my friend’s show (who forced me to take a night off from shooting) and was approached by someone who knew me because of my photography. Someone who took the time to tell me he loved my work and has been following along on my journey. He acted starstruck, which baffled me. As someone who struggles to feel seen sometimes, it didn’t make any sense. With this job, I’m supposed to be in the shadows, doing my best to stay out of the limelight of the moment. Apparently, though, my ability to capture these fragments of time is becoming recognizable. And it only makes me want to go even further.
Not for the fame and recognition, but because I am obviously doing something right.
No matter how tired and burnt out I get, I always come back to my camera. Because making a person feel seen and known is one of the greatest gifts I have to offer.
And I never want to waste that.
