(mostly) merry february

Holy shit, February.

Here's what's gone by this month thus far / since the last post:

Holy shit, Nada Surf. From the imaginary post:

"The working subtitle for this photoessay was almost Fuck Everything Else, Indie Rock Wins Forever. Because there's no other way to say it: Nada Surf puts on one hell of a pulsing, swoonworthy, face-shredding rock show. And not just any kind of rock, mind you -- this is fully legit indie rock, a term that gets tossed around way too loosely these days. You just have to know it when you see it: in this case, Nada Surf delivers their particular take, with the kind of big-guitar storytelling madness that keeps the crowd moving for the duration of the set, while blowing out eardrums in the most beautiful of ways. Without hesitation, I'll even go so far as to say that Nada Surf comes damn close to giving bands like the Wrens a run for their money -- and those of you who know my personal dedication to all things Wrens know the {musical} gravity with which I speak when I make that kind of a statement."

I've literally been waiting for the Neptune show since the moment the Tractor set stopped buzzing in my ears. More shots in the flickrs here.

Holy shit, pancake breakfast. Simultaneously the best and worst breakfast in recent memory. Best because of the band and the buddies. Worst because most of it tasted like a pile of sugar-covered rubber. But I'd go back again in a heartbeat.

Holy shit, expired disposable camera from Goodwill. Lesson learned? Don't not flash, no matter how bright it is out or how good you think the shot will look. Also, don't pay more than a dollar or two for these at the thrift store.

Holy shit, Dancing on the Valentine. Nine zillion bands, almost eight thousand dollars in funds raised, and some of the best Duran Duran songs that I didn't even know I loved as much as I did. While John Roderick's mini-set was pretty killer, the show-stealer of the night definitely goes to Hotels and NighTraiN covering "Come Undone" {in addition to the inimitable Jenny George herself, of course}. Imaginary postings here, shots in the photobooth by Ben Haley here.

Holy shit, Kim and Kelly!

I'm so, so thrilled that I got to take some happy-couple photos for Kim (one of my dayjob besties), who got engaged to her girlfriend Kelly just after the new year. These are two of my favorites, but take a peep at the link above for the full set on flickr.

Holy shit, Marqopa. Seriously.

Damien Jurado {and friends} managed to sell out the Neptune last Friday for the release of Maraqopa, his latest studio effort with Richard Swift. Paling in comparison only to Saint Bartlett, this is yet another journey into the depths of Damien's ever-evolving gift. A bit on "Nothing is the News" here, showposting here, and flickr set here.

Holy shit, Brad / holy shit, Anna's house.

From my tumblings:

"I had these pictures in my head since the first visit to my friend Anna’s house. Primarily the shot in the bathroom, and then when it was sorted out that Brad would be the one coming with me, the black-and-white shot appeared too.

'Seeing' things like this and then getting to actually make the photos come to life is infinitely satisfying. I can‘t imagine ever getting to do it for a living."

I suppose that's all the news that's fit to update at the moment. We're barely two months into the year and it seems as though there's more going on than I realize, as I look over the volume of stuff I'm getting done regularly -- mostly because I'm saying yes to things about fifteen percent more of the time than I think I ought to, with glorious result. I've found myself pushing past the boundaries of what's comfortable, and squeezing every ounce out of the boost that comes from mainlining vitamin D to combat the inevitable greys, and there's also the 'body in motion tends to stay in motion' logic that's proving itself quite true. I'm not sure which part relates to kale or vitamin cocktails or running or journaling or the lack of ladydrama in my life right now, but I'll take it.

This past week, I've eased on the brakes and left myself a little room in the schedule for pre-Italy doings. I've gone from full-to-the-brim calendar to suddenly having so many strange errands -- exchanging money, learning a language, studying maps, making daytrip plans, putting seemingly necessary liquids into tiny plastic containers -- and I've felt like I can't take on any social commitments for fear of running out of time, which is bizarre now that I'm looking at it all typed out. But the reality is simply that I just need to do a little extra laundry and fit ten days of my life into a giant backpack a day or so before I leave. There's almost an internal exhaustion that has come from it, part nervous and part thrilled and part scared and part getting shit done at the dayjob and the lovejob and on and on and on. I envy people who can just live normally until a day before a giant trip like this, and then launder, pack and leave, without needing a giant buffer beforehand. I've gotten really good at it for stateside trips. Maybe someday I'll get better at it internationally, too.

Bon courage, you guys. Rome beckons. More to follow in a few weeks.

I live in a bubble. A bubble surrounded by mountains, postcard scenery. Separated from the rest of the free world, I spend most of my waking hours in a community of like-minded folk: artists of varying mediums, friends, family of my choosing. We are careful about the meat we purchase. We watch endless documentaries. Our haircolors change with the seasons, our decisions are often politically responsible, we take action for the greater good, we take care of each other. We have work-life balance. We blanch kale and are never without an array of reusable grocery bags. And the shows. My god, the shows.

But it's heavy today. I'm sitting here in silence, freshly under the weight of realizations. I thought today about the validation people must get from their parents when they accomplish things. How, as you get older, if you have a healthy dynamic with your mother and father that they love, encourage, and appreciate you as you continue to walk into adulthood -- always your parents, but now a fellow set of adults, elder as they may be. How I've done so much and changed so much that it would be amazing to have them see this, to fly to Seattle, to stay in the home I've built with friends, to get a glimpse of my life.

Comforted now by the click of the keyboard typewriter on the laptop, I come here to this blinking blank screen (when I'm not buried in my paper notebook, ink-stained hands) for cleansing, for solace, for the attempt to untangle the knots or to relieve the weight or to try and figure out how to rearrange everything so I can carry it while it's mine to bear. Click-clack, click-clack. And in this particular series of moments: these knots, this weight, cursor blinks -- I don't quite know where to put everything. Any of it. The night will go on, I will go to the store and bake cookies for the potluck tomorrow and I'll edit photos and rearrage those two songs on the mix I just made, because I've been listening to it in the car this week and really think the Rentals should come after Weezer, not before. But I'm still struck dumb by the realization that this week, my mom has been dead for five years, which means this Christmas my dad will have been dead for ten, and how earlier today I wished that they could come and visit and see my life after having not thought particularly much about either of them recently.

I'm good at putting things away. Getting it all in order. Organizing. But there's no math for this, no floor to clean, no actions to take. I almost feel like I just look down and saw blood on my shirt and can't quite discern where it came from, even though I know everything I've done and seen today, and can account for all the places I've been. The melancholy I'm struck with just walking down the street is tangible.

These are the grey days.

c'est si bon, janvier

The month isn't over yet, but I didn't want the posting queue to fall too far behind. Here's what has seen fit to pass in front of me during the first twenty-four days of 2012:

These didn't go live until 2012, even though technically I did the shoot in December. This is the back room at Local 360, where they've got a whole expanded private dining area in the back of the restaurant now for standard receptions or a huge community-table style dining experience (or however you want to slice it). I've literally never seen so much locally sourced stuff on a menu (all the way down to the booze!) in my life -- Local 360 is the kind of place that makes me proud to be a resident of Seattle. There's one shot up on their site so far, best-ofs are up on flickr here.

There's been a good amount of miscellany this month, between procuring Jeff Mangum tickets and getting through the snow-haze -- Laura's been full steam ahead with the wedding planning, we took a quick jaunt to Portland to catch Pickwick at the Doug Fir and had the best breakfast in the history of breakfasts at Broder, and I caught a peek of the newly-redone Gainsbourg on a happy hour date with Ma'Chell. Odds and ends (still trickling in) here, a few shots from Gainsbourg here.

Zoe Muth stopped by the Roadhouse to do some new songs in advance of a few shows around town -- and seriously, I was converted to full-frontal fan by the time she wrapped up soundcheck. Some days I want to wrap up in a Zoe Muth / Star Anna mixtape blanket, as they both continue to put out incredibly compelling new pieces of work. Shots here, nerd-out-ery about Star Anna here.

It's with a bit of a sad pang that I realize Loryn's departure to Colorado is looming -- she'll be taking off the day after I land back from my trip to Italy. She procured my services with the promises of brunch and sightseeing this past weekend, and we took a trek around practically every neighborhood in Seattle (well, the good ones, anyway) to put together a photo history of all the places she's lived and worked. Full set of shots here.

And, last but not least, a portrait session with Alicia. Wherein I learned that (a) I have a lot to learn about taking formal portraits for people and (b) that I'm not as bad at it as I think I am. It was also a good reinforcement that there are few things more satisfying than having a photo in your head of how you'd like to shoot someone, and then having it come to life -- the couch photo above is what I saw in my head the day she asked me to shoot her. A handful of best-ofs posted here.

That's all the news that's fit to print at the moment. On the horizon: David Bazan at Gainsbourg, Nada Surf at the Tractor, and more grey skies. It might be hibernation season around here, but it's nothing a little vitamin D won't fix. Right?

Stay warm, everybody. xo

oh, film. you.

I started off the New Year with a lot of looking ahead, sorting out the now, and fittingly enough, glancing back at the past -- "the past" being a plastic shoebox of best-of photos that I've been carrying around since my move cross-country about three and a half years ago.

Three day weekend + roommate with scanner = boom. And, a few Fuji and Land Camera nuggets from the holiday New Year's Eve too, plus some shots from my dad's AE-1 Program earlier last year.

Here's to the roots. They're always a perfect plact to start from.

that's what she said. (no, really.)

Marriage Equality Speech
Governor Chris Gregoire
Jan 4, 2012
Olympia, Washington

Today I stand before you as Governor of the state of Washington. And as a wife, a mother, a student of the law, and as a Washingtonian with a lifelong commitment to equality and freedom. Today, I’m announcing my support for a law that gives same-sex couples in our state the right to receive a marriage license in Washington – the same right given heterosexual couples. It is time, it is the right thing to do, and I will introduce a bill to do it. Once again, the call for equality is sweeping through our nation – and this time it’s for our gay and lesbian citizens.

Make no mistake: America has been here many times before. In our long, hard road for equality – history shows we have faltered but we have always fought hard when it comes to protections against discrimination. We have made major strides towards equality for racial minorities, for women, for people with disabilities, for immigrants, for religious sects. We applaud the generations before us for their wisdom and courage to fight for equality. Now it’s our time... this generation’s call to end discrimination – discrimination against our gay and lesbian citizens. It is time for marriage equality. That means the State of Washington should not deny our citizens a marriage license based on sexual orientation.

For all couples, a marriage license is very important. It gives them the right to enter into a marriage contract in which their legal interests, and those of their children if any, are protected by well-established law. Why then does our state deny a marriage license? Some argue that the state should deny a marriage license to same-sex couples based on the premise that marriage is for procreation. Do we then deny a license to heterosexual couples who choose not to have children? To those who can’t have children or those who adopt? To those who have children through in-vitro fertilization?

Some argue that same-sex marriage weakens the institution of marriage. Is this a role of the state? If so, it has failed miserably with a divorce rate among heterosexual couples now at about 50 percent.

Some argue that the state must deny a marriage license based on religious beliefs. With a marriage license, couples marry in civil or religious ceremonies. In issuing the license, the state should not involve itself in an applicant’s religion. The responsibility of the state is to license only. The right of a church is to decide whom to marry, and the state will honor the religious freedom of all faiths.

The arguments used today to discriminate based on sexual orientation should remind all of us of the arguments used to discriminate in the past, and specifically the laws banning interracial marriage. It wasn’t until 1948 that the California Supreme Court became the first in the nation to declare such a law unconstitutional. And the United States Supreme Court didn’t declare anti-miscegenation laws unconstitutional until 1967!

While we have worked hard to confront racial discrimination in our state, we have been on a journey to end discrimination based on sexual orientation. Until 2006, Washington lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender citizens were denied basic protections from discrimination. It was that year that I signed a law banning discrimination based on sexual orientation in employment, housing and other areas. A year later, I signed a law creating domestic partnerships for same-sex couples, along with a number of rights enjoyed by married couples. And the year after that, I signed a law expanding those rights even more. Then in 2009, voters approved Referendum 71, which expanded the domestic partnership rights of same-sex couples.

It was a notable achievement in our long journey, but it still left same-sex couples with a different status. Some say domestic partnerships are the same as marriage. That’s a version of the discriminatory separate but equal argument of the past.

For decades, that argument was used to keep African-Americans separate at schools, apartments, and drinking fountains. After all, the argument went, those separate places were just as good. But we all knew separate is not equal and finally the law caught up. While I understand the experiences of racial minorities and lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender Americans are not identical, laws that keep some Americans in a separate status are inherently unjust. It is now time for equality of our gay and lesbian citizens, and that means marriage.

When someone asks me what marriage means, I don’t think about the legal protections of a marriage license. I think about love, commitment, responsibility, and partnership. Same-sex couples should not be denied the meaning of marriage. They have a right to be equal!

Throughout our journey, an ever-growing number of Washingtonians have come to understand that equal rights for same-sex couples is not only a good thing, but the right thing to do! It’s time to give our sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, friends, and the couple down the street the right to marry in our state. Now it’s time for all of us to stand up for equality in Washington. We have our champions like Sen. Ed Murray and Representative Jamie Pedersen. I stand with them.

I also stand with our younger Washingtonians Is there a generation gap here? Is it time to listen to our young people? Poll after poll show that young Americans – by substantial margins – support same-sex marriage even as their parents or grandparents struggle with it. Why? Can it be that our children knew some kids on the playground who had two moms instead of a single mom, or two dads instead of a mom and dad? Can it be because they befriended children of same-sex families – friendships that endure today? Can it be that today’s young Americans see sexual orientation discrimination as just as unacceptable as my generation saw racial discrimination? We must tell these children and their families that they are every bit as equal and important as all the other families in our state.

Finally, I stand in the memory of Cal Anderson – the late state senator who so humbly and courageously fought for civil rights in decades past. Passage of the law would make Washington the seventh state in nearly as many years to grant same-sex couples the right to marry. The first state was Massachusetts, followed by Connecticut, Iowa, New Hampshire, Vermont, and New York. And by the way, same-sex marriage is legal in Washington, DC, throughout Canada, and here in Washington by the Suquamish Tribe!

For many people, I know this is a very sensitive issue. I understand that. To those who fear it, I ask them to consider the fact that Massachusetts has permitted same-sex marriage since 2004 without the doomsayers’ predictions. In fact, the people of that state are raising their children, coping in this economy, and working to make a better world, just like Washingtonians. A special commission created by the state of New Jersey recently did a study about the potential impacts of same-sex marriage. It found that the economy of Massachusetts’ truly benefitted, and continues to benefit from the change in the law.

Among other findings, the study found that professional same-sex couples continue to move to Massachusetts, bringing their credentials, their children, and even extended families with them. Same-sex couples have strong families, and have been raising happy, healthy children for years – right alongside other couples and single parents. Our gay and lesbian families face the same hurdles as heterosexual families – making ends meet, finding time for career and family, raising their children and saving for college. And we are better for it! They and their kids join us in our churches, our schools, and supermarkets. And we are better for it!

We need to ask ourselves, how would it feel to be a child of a gay couple? How can we tell these children that their parents’ love is seen as unequal under the law, that their families are different. We must tell these children and their families that they are every bit as equal and important as all the other families in our state.

As Washingtonians and Americans, we have serious problems to address – a far-off war, the Great Recession, more than 13 million people looking for work, worldwide economic competition. Loving, committed married couples of any sexual orientation can only help us. They can help us defend our Democracy, help our neighbors, and build strong communities. And they will.

Fellow Washingtonians: Throughout our history, we have fought discrimination. We have joined together to recognize equality for racial minorities, women, people with disabilities, immigrants, religious sects. Please answer the call to support equality again in our great state. It is the right thing to do and it is time.

Thank you.

last flickr update :: adieu, 2011!

I was just uploading some shots and realized I hadn't cleared the flickr cache in quite some time -- so, let's get these last stragglers out of the way:

Marketa Irglova played at the Triple Door, and while she was quite lovely, I was too busy (a) being slayed by opener Sean Rowe and (b) stage-left going "OMG, a Frame. He's in the Frames. Holy shit, a Frame." Result? Rad time, mediocre photos... flickr set here.

It was a very thrifty Christmas season, with most gifts being love notes made out of repurposed postcards (some of which were close to a hundred years old), tiny bars of fancy soap, and handmade crochet cowls -- all stacked with care next to a kitten-sized Christmas tree. A few odds and ends on flickr here.

It bears repeating, even though I internetted about them for a week straight, that these were my two favorites of 2011: Cristina Bautista serving as bass player extraordinaire for Visqueen -slash- the entirety of Visqueen's final show, and the night I got to spend with Andrea Gibson at the Fremont Abbey. Show photos here and here respectively, and best-ofs on 3IG here and here {along with festival best-ofs here and here}.

The Imaginary Holiday Spectacular went off without a hitch, and we spent a weekend basking in the glow that only Eef can give -- both this set and the night following at the Madrona Ale House managed to not only rip us all to shreds but stitch us back together again too. Show photos here, phone recording of "Don't Stop Believin'" on the tumblrs here.

And, the holidays proper. It was a lovely long weekend at home, full of love and fireplace and home-cooking and perfect hugs. (It sounds square, but really, it was tremendous.) We spent most of the 25th messing around with the land camera, and most of the day after New Year's scanning in old shots. More on those in a bit, in the meantime, here's a half-dozen pictures of the cat.

The year really did end on the most beautiful of notes. I feel grateful and lucky to live with the people I share this house with, under our solid roof, tucked in adjacent to a studio, an arm's length away from everything I need -- both literally and metaphorically. I know there's been a bit of emo-post binge of late as I get to processing through the grey winter days, and I appreciate everyone just kind of standing by as I walk through whatever this is... I've upped my vitamin D and made a lot of buddy hang plans for January, so things should slowly step up.

We'll be back to bright photos and blistering sunshine before you know it. Until then -- stay warm, and be good to each other. XO

this will be our quarter

There are these places I frequent where I hear all sorts of wise things. Ambiguous, I know. But one of those things I hear often in one of those places goes as follows: basically, bombarding my problems with a will and a want to "do better" and to "try harder" is, contrary to popular belief, not what solves the problem at all. What solves the problem, #firstworld or #whitegirl or otherwise, is to do the next right thing in front of us that needs to get done. Life falling apart? You've probably got dishes to do and trash to take out, and you might not be making your bed or even showering as nearly as often as you ought to. That to-do list you keep staring at isn't going to do itself -- you can't clean out your whole inbox, or plan your whole life our or plan for a massive, multi-year project out by tomorrow, but you can turn that project-planning into a smaller list and maybe drop that bag of clothes in the trunk off to Goodwill, because it's been sitting there for a month. I don't know about anyone else, but I will look at those massive things that are in front of me to tackle and I'll often do nothing in defeat. Or do something, but totally phone it in because I'm under a giant, scary pile of whatever the hell is making me feel like I'm being chased at the moment. And then I'll turn down coffee with a friend because I feel like I don't have time to get anything done, and then I'm alone and not getting anything done, and we all know how that one plays out.

Getting little things done begets getting big things done. A body in motion tends to stay in motion. We can't run a marathon tomorrow, but we can start Couch to 5K tonight and go for a walk around the block and do some stretches. When we're off track, these little things help. And I'm off track. And so I need to do the little things to find some relief.

I started 2011 with a plan of attack and a direction and a map. Because I'd realized in the year prior that it was easy to To Do A Lot Of Shit but not actually Get Shit Done. Shooting a hundred shows is great, but what am I doing with it? Am I passing the product on to the bands and managers? Am I building relationships? It had become clear to me that while I was doing a lot in that arena, I wasn't doing anything with it, per se. And so I planned out how to be more purposeful. To make use of the networks I find myself in the middle of. To treat each show I shot as a learning experience, to go the distance, to shake the hand, to share the art. Same went for shooting at KEXP, what I did in my recreational photography, and the like. And it worked. My eye has changed, my focus is different, my approach is more purposeful, and the giant pile of associated to-dos I had in the midst of it all -- you know, all the stuff I felt like I had chasing me -- have (almost) all been finished in the last twelve months, one to-do at a time. All of my websites have been consolidated into this one, I have systems in place, I saved up for gear I needed and got it, and in a fit of crazy a couple of weeks ago, I even have a studio set up along with lights {thanks, Laura} and a zillion willing friends to sit and help test and learn with me. I picked journaling back up, I picked up a lot of things I'd left by the wayside a few relationships ago. And now I get to look around with a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction and try to figure out what's next.

So, you can imagine my surprise when I went to do my 2012 manifesto and couldn't structure out a plan. I have some wants and needs and desires and all, and Things That Need Improvement, but I didn't have this overarching goal-structure to map out so I'd have something to live by. I got so much done that it left me looking around trying to sort out what was going to happen next. And I learned in pages and pages of journal writing that day that it was okay to not have a giant, fueling burst of inspiration every minute of the day. That maybe my 2012 (or lifetime, or five-year) manifesto would come to me on a Tuesday in June. And I wrote and I wrote and I sorted out that I'm starting 2012 on the idea that it's okay to take it a quarter at a time. And that it's okay to not totally clearly and truly know what I want to do with the rest of my life. Really. I have more than enough that's rolled over or since evolved on that giant to-do list to get the motion in motion. I have plenty of things right at hand that need working on and elbow grease and improvement. I have enough at hand to be purposeful and to work towards. And some themes even came through, these commonalities that are more than clear that are going to be the foundations of what I build the 2012 floor of my house on.

It sounds square, but what came to me as an overarching vibe for this quarter -- on top of the fact that it's okay to take things a quarter at a time -- is "don't be afraid to shake what your mama gave ya", as they say. This one came from a want to be more purposeful in my work, a want to not phone things in, a want to get in better physical shape, and a want to be rid of the fear that haunts us all from time to time that keeps us from Being Great. And in those overarching umbrellas, there are plenty of little to-dos surrounding photography work, blog and internet-output management, day job stuff, working out, emotional self-care -- I can't be a different person by the weekend in all of these arenas, but I have starting points. Baby steps. Motions to set the motions in motion. And that's enough: a list of photography projects for the year and how to start them and what the budgets look like; a reminder to write a blog post like it's going to be read or not to write it at all, and to adopt a vibe of being more purposeful and discerning; a commitment to give my day job my all in the hours that I'm there, a full day's work for a full day's pay; starting an exercise regimen with a little help from my friends, being attentive to choices I make all across the health spectrum -- when I think about how I started off feeling like I didn't have a game plan for Q1 2012, and then I look back at all of these starting points... it's clear that there's plenty to do.

So, I'm off to put it all to Sharpie and giant legal pad. I've got to make sure I throw some big ones in there too, like tours and fantasies about being out of debt and all the huge, seemingly unreachable stuff that feels crazy to even commit to a list. I did that last year, and as I sit here on the three hundred and sixty-fifth day of 2011 typing this blog post from a photo studio in the house where I live, it makes it suddenly feel not so crazy at all.

Bon courage, you guys.

holiday greys

I should be making my beet salad and soldering on through these spreadsheets, but here I sit instead, parsing through albums I kept meaning to get to listening to from the big basket on the side of my desk: camille bloom is horrendous. kristen allen-zito is pleasant, and a bit haunted. there's more there than meets the eye. I can get that this year's wilco release is good but I can't quite get my arms around it. and the next one I pop in will be listened to only because I like the photo on the cover.

none of that is the point. the point is, the holidays are harder this year then they were last year. 2010 found me consumed with a Girl and Plans and all the Things you do together when you are Dating Someone During The Holidays. and I can see, especially of late, in all of my single-dom, why people date people they don't like and stay places where they know they ought not to. because it's a hell of a lot easier (on the surface, at least) to focus on that than it is to focus on some state of being uncomfortable or some Issue that is long overdue to be Dealt With.

so I'm single. whatev. and purposefully, I might add. it's not for a lack of love. but this purposeful aloneness, while great for the growth meter and the taking care of self and all that ish, tends to lend itself to early 2000's style Feeling All The Feelings -- you know, being in your twenties -- where every day was a workout and every show warranted six thousand words. and on top of the obvious parts that get sorted out around this time of the year, there are things I'm just not prepared for. like standing in the elevator at work just now, and these older guys get on to ride up with me and I'm hit with these horrible pangs of missing my father because one of them smells like him. vaguely. this christmas will be nine years since he passed away. some years, the anniversaries pass and they shred you to bits. some years, they put you back together. it seems as though this year is the former.

so there's that and there's bursting into tears listening to phone recordings of eef's shows and I've been noticing all this -- I get it -- and as a result, bolstering up the holiday ante: the inside of our house is draped with tiny lights we plan to leave up all year long, which is forever, because we've decided never not to live there. I've been running the charlie brown christmas movie in the background when I sort through emails after getting to work in the mornings. I've taken the few dollars I have that aren't paying down debt and bought little trinkets for friends from thrift stores and secondhand shops. the presents are stacked by the typewriter with care. I'm journaling and hydrating and taking my vitamins. and no matter what I do, try or say -- I still can't shake it.

I suppose this is the point where there is no walking around or getting over, there's just the going through -- and unlike the early 2000's emo-blogging, I have no metaphor or picture to wax poetic on the sad, no words for the grey skies holding hope or the laces of my shoes being the only things that are getting me through the through. it's much more like riding out a cold. I've grown up enough to know that I'll wake up, tomorrow or a week or a month from now, and it will all Feel Different. that these pangs aren't going to be here forever, just like the good times don't last forever either.

I'm happy. it's been a good year, and I'm not in some kind of self-imposed race for 2011 to end. major parts of my world have changed by leaps and bounds. I met almost all of my goals, and shit happened this year that I never would have imagined. I've got big aspirations for oh-twelve: there's good shows and times with friends on the horizon and I did the math yesterday and realized I'll be out of debt by 2013. that's not so bad. on top of all that, I'm excited to look at best-of photos and sit with the year for a spell, all the moments in front of stages, all the music that happened, the remember and the reflect and that sense of accomplishment and excitement. all these tangible measures of how Things Have Changed.

but as logically as I can look at all of that, there's still a tiny weight.

tonight we'll decorate some kind of christmas planting, because dead trees are silly and besides, nolan would probably shred anything we erect in the living room to absolute pieces. we'll do it because we haven't and because that's what people do this time of year. I don't know if it will make me cry more or less, but it worked for charlie brown. and there's it's a wonderful life on christmas eve, and I'll sort out orphan dinner on sunday, and then suddenly monday will be here and it all will have shifted, statistically.

in the meantime, here's to the rest and to all of what's next. to these icy patches in our minds and how we come out the other side, to the mixtapes borne of times like these and to all the pages and all the songs. and to remembering that nights spent alone, reflective under those tiny lights hanging in the house, are sometimes the best nights of all.

hold on to your pants, 2012. we're coming for you.

See that tiny door there on the left? That's a sliding pocket door into a low-ceilinged room that's about the size of a nursery. It's where I live now. Because this weekend, in a fit of "make the thing happen that your life needs more of"-time, I moved all of my personal effects, clothes, bed, posters and the like into a space the size of a walk-in closet so that I could turn my main living space into a permanent studio.

I'm not sure if this is a sign that I am committed or that I should be committed, but either way, I think it's going to kick some serious ass. It's going to be interesting, to say the very least.

More to follow -- I'll likely post up a dedicated page with some daytime shots and a few portraits once I have them ready. For now, I'm just reveling in all the emptyness and the space I've made for new ideas to flow in. I'm planning a series to start out big next year, that should likely result in a book-y-zine kind of thing and a photo show before 2012 is out.

I'm beside myself with excitement for everything that's on the way. Welcome to the Birdnest, kittens. xo

the great pre-holiday catch-up

Before the food coma sets in -- is it even possible to get a food coma from a Celebration Loaf? -- and before the rush of All The Things That Have To Suddenly Get Done At Holiday Time take over, here's a pile of recent updates.

Pickwick Played At Sonic Boom And It Totally Kicked So Much Ass. The set was a little stripped-down, but still chock-ful-o' all the radness that's been coming nonstop from these gents lately. Coming up, Dance Party 2K11 AKA Pickwick at the Neptune on December 8th. Flickr set from SB here.

Remember the time John Roderick played in our living room? I know. Crazytown. 2003 Victoria just about barfed up her dinner, but in real-time what actually went on was an intimate gathering of friends and Long Winters OG fans for an unbelievable performance ten feet from our faces, combo'd with more potluck finery than you could possibly shake a stick at. It started out as a joke almost, when I realized I was going to be out of town (at CMJ) during City Arts fest, and thus would be missing the LWs at the Showbox -- and a sideways suggestion that John play at our house turned into a full-blown actual happening, complete with video and audio recordings from Adam and Tyler & friends (coming soon).

The result? Pure, unadulterated awesome. And a killer cover of Neutral Milk Hotel, to boot. Flickr here, imaginary post here.

Oh, Mike Doughty. You.

I started out at this show as a wing-woman for Laura who, among other things, is an OG Mike Doughty Fan Extraordinaire. I wound up as a claimed fan who (somewhat) understands a bit better the mystery of the Doughty Way, and on top of that, subway-band-turned-tourmates Moon Hooch were actually a hell of a lot of fun. Flickr set here.

Oh, and ps, ^ this happened. So much unabashed adorableness in such a tiny room. Including the four-up Holgaroid beaut that Laura's got posted on her blog here.

I covered Hey Marseilles and Stephanie's sets for Audioasis a few Saturdays back, just before HM headed off to the Neptune for a sold-out show with Bryan John Appleby and Nick Jaina. Both were rolled into the KEXP flickr pool, and I've got best ofs here and here respectively.

Feist, Moore, no direct shooting. The set was an interesting combination of classic Feist, reworked favorites, throwback stage imagery and a twinge of a new-age-y-ness running a course througout. Flickr here, imaginary writeup here.

The one and only Loryn Kezer introduced me to the bliss of Adventure Saturday, wherein you go somewhere you haven't gone or do something you haven't done. My upcoming trip to Mount Vernon for some thrifting seemed like a perfect fit, and even though she'd been up that way before she hadn't been in a car or anywhere other than in passing at a show with me -- so technically it still qualified for her list as well. Brunchings with my One Reel friends at the Fat Hen in Ballard preceded, which felt a little bit like dining in the pages of Real Simple magazine.

Creepy tracheotomy baby? Yes, please.

And Adventure Saturday capped off with a killer (albeit late, but I'm an old lady in the winter) set by the Young Evils at the Rendezvous. Killer, killer, KILLER new tunes -- I'm head over heels with "Darker Blue Bayou" and wish I had the video of that song so I could loop it on repeat until I sang it in my sleep.

Sweet Michael Lee! Adventure Saturday & the Young Evils in flickr form here, and in imaginary format in the Feist weekend roundup post here.

And lastly-but-mostly on the catchups, I had the honor -- it really was -- of shooting the What To Read In The Rain publishing party at 826 Seattle this past Sunday. Kids and adults from 826's ongoing workshop series came together and published a book that's going to be bedside in hotels across Seattle, and to date they've already sold over 5,000 copies.

From mooning over John Roderick at a "How To Write Like I Do" session to shooting Dave Eggers and a ton of brilliant folks celebrating a book and a recent award from Michelle Obama? Yes, please. 826 Seattle, I think you're a keeper.

Yep. Dave Eggers, doing the 826 tutor profile headshot for me.

Full 826 event flickr set here.

That's all the news that's fit to print. If things are looking a little different around here lately -- yes, I'm doing a site redesign and it's on the five yard line, just a couple more tweaks (love the font? hate it? please send feedback!) and a few adds and subtracts from the portfolio section and I'll be able to put this project to rest.

In the meantime: be grateful. Somebody loves you. (Yes, you.) Probably me. xo
V.

it's all (colder) now, baby blue

lori coined this hug season. I'm inclined to agree.

since I came back from the east, the weather has shifted. there's still those brilliant warm moments in the sun, where you're surprised at how chilly it isn't. but most of the time, it's the is-part, and I'm left foraging for warmth.

once the chill sets in -- mossy bones, as abbey once said -- I'm inclined to reach out for warmth. extra blanket, thick socks. space heaters and thermostats. but it's not always the right kind: I want to reach out to women in my past, and reconcile my wrongs in hopes of being held. I want a magical blend of the first one, and the second, and the third and the fourth. no room for bad things. only good thoughts can stay. and as I shift into a period of purposeful alone-ness, I have to first endure that period of wanting anything but alone, when the adoration and the being adored are gone and the corners are sharper. the lights a little too harsh. I know on the other side of it waits a veritable ocean of open doors and wiser paths -- as I typed that portion above about wanting to be held, I knew as the words clicked off my fingertips that it wasn't really what I wanted at all.

but that illusion sure is nice. for a fleeting, sparkly-eyed little moment, at least.

who needs the blues / when you've got the greys?

as the wise jared mees puts it:

This Is My Motherfucking Day.

I've got a mix tape brewing. nanowrimo beckons. there may be words fused with photos here for a while, as Things Get Sorted Out. I have a new room, new friends, new home, one less cat, one more kitten, and I'm dawning on the eve of my two-year gay-nniversary. although we don't talk anymore, I'm forever grateful to the one who dragged me out of that closet, kicking and screaming.

it is only in the breaking down I experienced in the weeks and months following that fateful day that I've learned to build myself back up.

east coast travels, october 2011 :: mostly photos

A trip back to New Haven / New York / Martha's Vineyard, where the pictures were crisp and the descriptions were decidedly Upper Case. These are just the images -- for a full bevy of words, mostly lower case, see the post below.

Days 1-2: Erin, Buddy, a trip back in time to the Space, The Ace in New York, Zola Jesus, and We Are Augustines for KEXP

Day 3: Widowspeak, Givers, and Dum Dum Girls at the Ace for KEXP

Day 4: more of the city, Brittney, WATERS, and EMA for KEXP

Days 5-6: driving to / submerging in Martha's Vineyard

It was a week of awakenings. Keep scrolling for those lowercase details I talked about at the top of the post... you know. If you wanna.