Category Archives: photography

Mar 09 0 comments
music, photography

The Night We Sang with Karen O

Why haven’t I told THIS story yet? Probably because it’s been nearly six months. Probably because it’s so surreal that some part of me denies that it ever happened.

My experience at the Monolith Music Festival last September topped out with the Yeah Yeah Yeahs on Saturday night. Not that everything surrounding it wasn’t perfection - but that show was what I’d call a “peak life moment.” When you look around you and everything is right. When something deep inside your brain is manufacturing permanent snapshots that stick with you forever.

We were standing at the base of Red Rocks, only a stone’s throw from Karen O, dancing. Dancing. Dancing. I have never danced like that before in my life at a show. We jumped and sang and shimmied. How could you NOT?

My all-access pass granted me the luxury of taking pictures anytime, while the rest of the photographers only had the first three songs. The Yeah Yeah Yeahs are obviously known for some fabulous stage grandeur, but I could have SWORN she…saw us. I looked to Katie, who had the pleasure of a meet-and-greet with the band before the show. “Is it just me or is she…totally looking at us, sometimes?” I shouted over the wall of sound. “No no - she totally is!”

Maybe she’s just that good - making the audience believe she’s totally putting on the show just for you — but being so close, it felt like we were feeding off of  her energy, and VICE VERSA. YES, VICE VERSA. I’d pull out my camera, and I felt like she was…I don’t know…working it. I know that sounds silly and amateur, but I guess you had to be there.

During “Soft Shock,” Karen O jumped down to the stage barrier. She pointed straight at us. POINTED. AT US, followed by a “come hither” motion. I stood there and peed my pants, convinced that she was directing that at someone else. I saw Katie walk up and I thought, “Okay yes. Apparently this is happening.” She pointed the microphone towards us and we sang some “Ooh-oohs” in glorious harmony. [Or possibly just excited girl-shrieking. I can't remember, and unlike my White Girl Bop, it is not on YouTube.]

“I got my GIRLS with me tonight!” she shouted.

Her girls. We’re her girls.


Created with Admarket’s flickrSLiDR.

[I'm trying out something new with this slideshow, but if it's not working or if you totally hate it, you can mosey on over to my Flickr set.]

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Mar 05 3 comments
photography

First Friday Self-Portrait

THE GOOD: I learned how to curl soft waves in my hair.

THE BAD: I nearly burnt my fingers off in the process.

THE REALLY GOOD? Since January, I thought I had broken one of my Nikon cameras. It’s been sitting in the corner, sad and listless, because I was in denial that eventually I’d have to take it somewhere to get fixed (read: $$$) Well, it must have had some time to think about what it’s done, because I picked it up today, made a few adjustments, and it’s seemingly good as new. (Thanks, Google.)

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Feb 01 0 comments
photography

Oh I’m sorry, have you seen my socks? THEY SEEM TO HAVE BEEN ROCKED OFF.

This would be Phoenix at Monolith last September. (I KNOW IT’S NOT TIMELY, BUT THAT’S ALL I GOT RIGHT NOW PEOPLE.) Absolutely delightful and rockin’ and brimming with promise, these guys. There’s not much more for me to say without getting regretfully sappy.  Love.  Also, I just took a trazodone so that’s going to be kickin’ infsf sondfnsfdasldksddddddddddddd

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Jan 31 1 comments
photography

In Which I Expose Myself to Ridicule..Not Unlike Every Entry on This Blog.

HEY. Guess who has two thumbs and has more time to edit photos she took, oh…FOUR MONTHS AGO? THIS KID.

Here’s the thing. I am not a professional photographer. I was not paid to take pictures of the Monolith Music Festival. I simply had the badge that said I could.

Said badge also got me into the media and artists tents, which got me booze, and fish tacos a-plenty. But also, booze. It hit me more at some times than others, like when I decided to photograph Redman and Methodman.

When they first came out, Redman dissed the photographers, saying something about how “WE’RE HERE FOR THE PEEPS, NOT THE PAPS” or something, and I was all, “Hey. I’m a pap.”

“I’m not a slave to the man!” I wanted to say, perhaps after tugging on Meth’s purple polo. “I’m just a freeloader who just *hiccup* drank copius amounts of pino greeszh.”

And to show them, to prove to them I belonged there? I fell into the biggest black hole of Uncool: I launched into The White Girl Bop.

Worse yet, I DIDN’T KNOW I WAS DOING IT, until someone pointed me to YouTube.

Peep this at about :50, if you don’t get vertigo first. I’m the chick with the dark short hair, navy blue shirt, and plaid red skirt — you know, with the camera, taking shots that I think are going to be KILLER but are mainly just blurry upshots of Methodman’s armpits. Yeah, that’s me. Dancing in and out of frame.

I’M WHITE.

I GET IT, NOW.

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Oct 05 2 comments
music, photography

Out of the darkness and into the fire

The Walkmen — In the New Year

If you’re playing the home game, ought-nine has brought some pretty nasty tidings to my neck of the [emotional?] woods. There have been break-ups (okay, one, but it was pretty tragically epic), depressions, and existential crises-a-plenty. If the past year has taught me anything, it’s the realization that there’s no getting off this roller coaster. You’re so on it, kid, I tell myself.   Sometimes? I’m going to bottom out. And it’s going to hurt. But lately, I’ve heard that click-click-click of the cars creeping up the track. When everything is right, and I’m surrounded by the people I need in my life, and I’m where I’m meant to be,  doing what I’m destined to do.

The day I took these pictures was one of those days. Click click click.

My roommate is full of win, and through her I’ve gotten friendly with the guys over at My Old Kentucky Blog/Laundromatinee. I crashed their tent at Monolith and they were kind enough to let me get my camera geek on. The afternoon of day one, The Walkmen came for a session.

(Seconds before this, he had accidentally dropped his triangle. It was kind of priceless and adorable. And you know how I am about handheld percussion.)

Check out the session over at MOKB.

Day One was rainy and cold and gross. I would have been miserable if I wasn’t nearly peeing my pants with excitement all day.  Soon after the Laundro session, the boys headed out to the Southern Comfort stage. I’m apt to say “boys” when talking about guys in a band, but The Walkmen are totally men.  Full-grown men. You can hear the maturity in the music. Seasoned. Experienced. If the Walkmen were a wine, they’d totally be a full-bodied cabernet.  Oaky and sophisticated, but not one of those fancy numbers that you let gather dust in your cellar. [Wait, what? Don't let me write about music. Ever.]

(This guy was too fast for my camera.)

PS This flickr set can be found here.

If you live in or near Indianapolis? Lucky us. The Walkmen will be playing The Vogue tonight. More information on THIS AWESOME POSTER THAT MY FRIEND URIAHA FOUST MADE.

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Oct 02 1 comments
music, photography

And everything is going to the beat. . .

Passion Pit - Sleepyhead

Continuing on the theme of, “My Photography Hard-On, Let Me Show You It” — Here are some photographs of one of my new favorite bands, Passion Pit, at Monolith Festival.

I was supposed to see these guys opening  for Ra Ra Riot in Bloomington before they canceled. All the indie kids are going, Passion Pit opening for Ra Ra? Helluva lineup! and the other 95% of the population is going, Who? and Who now?

JUST GIVE IT A LISTEN. IT’S GOOD.

One of the things that made me stand out in the press pit?   I was usually the only one who would dance in between frames.

Which is probably why I have blurrier shots than most of them.

I can’t help it.

Also, in the eyes of most pro photographers there, I was shooting with an SLR made by Fisher Price.

But I think I did alright.

What is concert photography if not, just, capturing a moment?

A summoning of light?

A burst of kinetic energy?

Yeah.

Where do I sign up to do this for a living?

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Sep 21 2 comments
music, photography

M. Ward. Or: Abusing my media pass, one glass at a time.

M. Ward - Rave On

It’s finally occurring to me, as I’m whoring out my photography in exchange for all-access backstage passes and free booze - that I will get CREDIT for said photographs in the form of a link. Back here. To my blog. My blog of random, rambling musings.

This epiphany stemmed from the conversation that just happened between me and my roommate.

Me: I wish I would have saved our GChat today on M. Ward.

Katie: Yeah, that needed to be posted somewhere. But aren’t you going to be directing people to your blog, as kind of a portfolio?

Me: Mmmhmm.

Katie: I mean, I’m not saying you should censor yourself. But you probably shouldn’t mention an artist’s taint.

Me: Good point. I’m just saying, that Chuck Berry cover was SICK.

So, in the spirit of professionalism I will veer from that debauchery and say…

What a salt-n-peppered dream boat, he is.

I do love some electronic musical manipulations and hip hop is just wonderful, but sometimes? Sometimes I just want a dude to pick up a…a…okay I don’t know what guitar this is, but if this guitar sound was a dude? I WOULD BED HIM. (Or at least stare at him longingly over the bar and maybe, maaaaybe slide him my phone number.)

Hey.

Hey. I’m right here.

W..with the camera in yo face?

Hard to get. I like that.

Per Wikipedia:

[M. Ward] has also taken steps recently to restrict fans’ use of cameras—even point-and-shoots—during his live shows.

Oh.

No worries. I will just…creep up…from behind..here..

By the way, it was raining, and it was really hard to look sexy for you in a poncho, M. Ward.

But I think it helped set the mood.

Also, the 324923 glasses of Pinot Noir from the media tent.

[whispered] Love you.

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Sep 16 5 comments
music, photography

Take Your Broke @$$ Home…

A long time ago, I came across a tagged photo of one of my best friends at a local show in New York or Chicago, I think. He was sweaty and smelly and shirtless, standing next to a guy pouring over a laptop, also sweaty and smelly and shirtless. Basically it was a bunch of dudes, sweaty and sm…well, you get the idea.  At the time,  I was sort of disturbed by it - what kind of a spectacle IS this? They seemed to be having a blast, but…WTF?

I just made the connection that that was Girl Talk as I was editing my photos of his performance at Monolith this weekend. I’d been listening to Girl Talk for about a year now as my running soundtrack. Okay, we can probably throw that in quotes — “running” soundtrack.  Inevitably, I get out of breath and end up dancing on the side of the road to some Fergie/Kenny Loggins mashup. Still, as you remember, I remained kind of skeptical about some of it.

And when I told people I’d be catching Girl Talk at Monolith, someone would always say something like, you know it’s just a dude around a laptop, right? and I’d be all, Well, yeah, I mean, he’s  a DJ…a DJ who puts LL Cool J and the Bangles in the same eight count. Your point?


Obviously it doesn’t take a lot to get me dancing and enjoying myself in such situations, but there were a bunch of elements that made this one helluva time.  Jess, an exceptionally cool girl from Indy that I met in Denver, was friends with Girl Talk/Greg Gillis and her stories  painted him to be a dear and a half. I began to see him not as “GIRL TALK,” this big entity, but as a dude who is just super talented and likes to make people dance. And we did just that.  Jess lent me a poncho (it was raining cats and dogs, and hipsters) and we cheered him on.

First rule of The Art of Striptease — you need to start with a lot on so you have a lot of pieces to take off.

People were SO happy to be there! The confetti helped. And probably the ecstasy.

The energy coming from the stage was ridiculous, and I had an all-access pass (yup, I’ll just slip that in there) - so I made my move…

Every time he transitioned into some song I liked, I usually would scream, “Awwwww shit!” in the whitest way possible. I had consumed a lot of wine before the sun went down, so…

Red-hooded sweaaaaaatshirt.

..I don’t even remember taking this. But you know how I love things falling from the rafters (see: Talbot Street + Glitter = heaven.)

This would be a good time to thank Aaron for lending me his camera so my 50mm could autofocus. Because we all know I’d never be able to manual-focus that sh*t.

Aw, these kids clearly thought I was a legitimate member of the press. Sorry guys, it’s just There’s Your Karma.

In retropect, this would have been a perfect opportunity for a good old-fashioned pantsing.

“How was Girl Talk?” my friend had asked me when I got back to the media tent. “I saw you dancing on the jumbotron.”  Win.

I mean, how could you not, with stuff like this? How do you get this girl’s job? What is on her business card? “Dispenser of Pure Joy.” That’s what.

I appreciated all the Michael Jackson.

So yeah, just a dude with a laptop.

Amazing.

[There's still eco-friendly toilet paper and confetti plastered to my cowboy boots.]

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Sep 15 3 comments
music, photography

She got jumper cable lips. . .

I have this blog entry that I wrote five years ago, recapping my experience at WZPL’s “Jingle Jam,” — a holiday concert featuring Howie Day, Maroon 5, and Jason Mraz. Go ahead. Read that roster again; I’ll wait.. . . .  As if that lineup alone was not embarassing enough, the blog entry reads no different than a twelve-year-old reviewing a New Kids on the Block show in 1990, with lots of exclamation points and emoticons and *things encased in asterisks.* I’m much too lazy to search the archives (that was two blogs ago), but if you’d like the link, ask Bess Browning. She keeps it on hand to have a good laugh, she says. (EDIT: She may or may not have put the link in the comments.)  Meeting Adam Levine and getting drunk with his band in some hotel suite was, at that time, dubbed, “LIKE, IN THE TOP FIVE BEST NIGHTS OF MY LIFE.”  When I sent the link around to my friends, I figured we’d all chuckle for a minute and then forget about it.  Oh no. My romp with these pop stars and my overly enthousiastic writeup gets mentioned on a weekly basis. If I go to a show or a party nowadays and mention the fun I had? Bess will quip - “Was it better than the Maroon 5 concert? That was in your top five best nights, ever.”

Har, har.

So when she asked me about my weekend at the Monolith Festival, I told her - “In the top five best weekends of my life. Better than hanging out with Maroon 5.” It was true, though. Really.

This would typically be the point in the blog entry where I’d start a narrative account of the weekend from the beginning, but I’m not. I took somewhere around 1,400 pictures, and I’m really eager to show some of the better ones to you. So I’m going to go about this in a somewhat caddywampus fashion.

One of the first bands I shot was also one of the most fun — Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros. There are two things that are absolutely impossible to do during this set — 1) not smile and 2) stand still.  You don’t care what they’re on, but you want some.

Janglin\’ — Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros

MORE UNDER THE CUT BELOW…

Get the whole story »

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Sep 02 0 comments
photography

You need to pick yo afro, Daddy, cuz it’s flat on one side…

I was watching the Project Runway premiere with Katie when we saw one of the models trotting down the catwalk with a big red curly ‘fro. “I wish I could have my hair like that for the fashion show.”

From my lips to God’s ears.  To Beau’s ears. Because that’s what he had in mind.

We started off coloring my hair a darker shade of auburn before two women tag-teamed my tresses with perm rods.

(There’s a squirrel noise that goes with this.)

Then it was time spent in and out of dryers until they took the rods out, which looked like this. I look so gross here…

Now, spray spray spray, pick pick pick, pull pull pull.

I should mention by this time I had ingested some liquid courage. Not my fault the venue was next to the liquor store. I’m sure Heidi Klum would have done the same thing.

I might as well have photoshopped hearts in this one. Bloop, bloop, bloop! Right around my head.

BOOM. Worked it.

[Photo by Anya Albonetti]

BOOM. Love him.

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Aug 19 2 comments
photography

Has anybody here seen my old friend Jenn?

Hey. It’s been awhile.  I know.  I have plenty to write about, what with birthdays and GenCon and concerts and a new apartment and city living and new obsessions.  But right now my Gateway is sitting right next to me in my bed and my monitor is perched atop stacked moving boxes. My keyboard is on my lap and I’m using a photography book as a mousepad. I can’t write like this.  I need a laptop. I need money for a laptop. I need a sugardaddy/mama (I don’t discriminate!) to buy me a laptop.   Just putting that out there, BECAUSE THIS BLOG IS LIKE MY F*CKIN VISION BOARD. Cough.

Plus? I’ve had this cry stuck in my chest, and I need to go do something sad to get some relief. The ladies probably know what I’m talking about.  I guarantee half of them just thought, “Steel Magnolias!” right now.  I’ve been wanting to cry for the past two days, and the cry just never comes.

So I can’t write tonight. I need to easy slowly back into it.  For now? I’m going to share with you my favorite photo that I made at GenCon. More photos to follow. Maybe. My flickr pro account expired. I need to renew flickr pro account. I need money to renew my flickr pro account. I need a sugardaddy/mama to renew my flickr pro account.

Okay, the truth is, I’m a mess.

But sometimes I take pretty pictures.

Winner of the GenCon 2009 Costume Contest Best in Show Award.She was an “An Ice Elemental from the RPG Changeling: the Host.” (Yup. Cut ‘n Pasted that.)

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Jun 03 2 comments
photography

Buddies.

I made a boat load of photographs Saturday, during which I drank amazing locally brewed beers and listened to great bands and made new friends. I’ll be sure to tell you all about it in the next couple posts, but here is just a taste:

Uriaha and myself, drinking what looks to be Blueberry Ale.  Note his coolness, and my senior portrait pose.

Here’s Sarah and a begging weimaraner.

And here’s Matt. Who says smoking’s not cool?

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May 20 0 comments
photography

Found.

The perfect red.

MAC A19, Ruby Woo.

Not included: The lady-balls required to actually wear Ruby Woo.

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May 01 1 comments
indianapolis, music, photography

Record Store Day!

Stayin’ busy.

A little while ago, Katie and I went to the National Record Store Day activities at Luna in Broad Ripple. Photo share!

Luna.

Katie.  She’s kind of the most adorable ever, right? See the dandelion in her hand? A stranger just handed that to her.  Yeah, it’s a weed, but strangers just hand her flowers. It’s what happens. It’s a jolly holiday with Katie.

This is what we came for.  I was looking for Van Morrison’s Astral Weeks on vinyl (Astral Weeks has become my new religion as of late). I couldn’t find it. But there was still much going on.

Like this awesome dog.

This is my new friend, Doug.  Doug and his buddies were shooting interviews for My Old Kentucky Blog/ Laundromatinee.

Katie and I were interviewed, too, but we never did see the footage from this day on the websites.  I’m kind of happy about that, because I know I said a lot, without actually saying ANYTHING.

I also went into a random tangent about the smell of old vinyl and the feel of dust on your fingers as you flip through crates of records….but is there anything better than that, really? (Answer: no.)

Smoke.

Skinny jeans.

Radiant!

Everyone remembers this guy.

The End.

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Apr 29 3 comments
photography

Red.

I would like to share this photograph I made:

He was hanging outside of Luna on National Record Store Day.

Do you know this gentleman?

If you do, you should tell him he’s awesome.

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