It feels like the past year hasn't happened.
As I write this, it's September 2022, two weeks after I turned 31. And I feel like I didn't even live the year of being 30 years old. My energy shifted so much from exploring music and working on various creative projects to focusing on my health and managing pain, which has sometimes been unbearable. Has any time even passed? All my attention has been on my body and health – what about my life?
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I don't know who I am right now or what I'm "doing" or what my purpose is. In 2018 – seven years into my writing career – I dove in harder than I ever had in hopes of avoiding my emotions. Then something incredible happened: it seemed to pay off. I was forming relationships with publicists at top labels, artists I loved and writers I respected liked my work, and most importantly, I felt something: I was proud. I was grinding, pushing out feature after feature all while working a full-time job and being active in volunteering. Writing became more of who I am than it ever had been. It all felt worth it, until one day, it didn't.
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(Alternately known as: “my life story over the past seven years, as told through Pentimento.”)
This past weekend, I made the trip up to Buffalo to see Pentimento play a headlining show. I’ve made that trip three times now, but this trip was extra special because it was the first time I was able to see them headline in their hometown.
Before I go on about this trip, I’d like to talk about my history with the band, and what they’ve come to mean to me over the years - and why, exactly, I keep driving to Buffalo to see them.
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Well, it’s certainly been awhile since my last post on here.
What have I been up to? Well…
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There's nothing like spending the day in good company. I've had my fair share of adventures in life- some of my own choosing, some that were thrust upon me without my knowledge or willingness- and while I'm always happy to come away with a good story, it's the people I spend my time with that leave the biggest impact. At the end of the day, the people we meet and choose to spend our time with are far more important than work or money or anything else.
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Since I started photographing live music six years ago, I've been able to photograph so many artists I never thought I'd get to photograph, and many of my long-time favorites as well. Good Charlotte has been my favorite band since I was 11; I loved shooting them on Warped Tour last summer and was excited when I saw they'd be stopping at one of my favorite venues, the Sherman Theater in Stroudsburg, Penn.
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This past December, I had the opportunity to travel on a Birthright trip to Israel. My trip organizer was Amazing Israel, though they're all fantastic. I had an "amazing" experience and I'm excited to share some images from the trip. We arrived at Newark Airport on Monday, December 12, with plenty of time to spare before the long flight to Tel Aviv.
Our first stop when we landed was The Museum of Jewish People, where we had a talk on Judaism and what it means to be Jewish, and saw two exhibits. One was about synagogues around the world; the other was about Bob Dylan. Part of the Dylan exhibit was dedicated to the photography of Elliott Landy, which was so, so cool.
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What an interesting year it's been so far. But when times are changing, music- especially punk rock- is as important as ever. Our new president was inaugurated on Friday, and like many of you, I was nervous, and scared of what the future had in store. So what did I do on Thursday night? I went to a punk / hardcore show.
The Meatlocker is a grungy, graffiti-covered DIY venue right in the middle of Montclair, N.J. It feels out of place in the area (there's a Lululemon store across the street- among plenty of other "nice" chains and restaurants) and it's been "shut down" multiple times in the past (but it always comes back to life). I went to see Sharptooth (melodic hardcore from Maryland; I know their bassist Phil through his other band, Something More) but the other two bands I saw, Bad Off (hardcore, also from Maryland) and Psychodynamic (punk, from Jefferson, N.J.) were great as well.
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