Colour by Liz Brown

This was a lighting test shot. I almost didn't share it. It's messy. My life is messy right now. I've been rearranging my room and it's not done. But it's my real life: flowers and denim and to-do lists and art. Life and creation and the mess in-bet…

This was a lighting test shot. I almost didn't share it. It's messy. My life is messy right now. I've been rearranging my room and it's not done. But it's my real life: flowers and denim and to-do lists and art. Life and creation and the mess in-between. Here I am.

This morning I was sitting in bed drinking coffee. My mornings often start slowly and I don't ever want to stop appreciating that luxury. My life may be relatively simple and small, but I'm thankful for luxuries of time and good coffee and morning light. Across from me was a gray wall, next to a green plant, and near brown and gold and black and white and red shoes. My bed is a cotton mess of gray and burnt yellow and light gray and it feels cozy, like rest and like dawn. 

However, as I sat there, silent in the scene, I was bit with a tinge of regret. I wish it was all white. I wish I was one of those people who liked clean white tidy things. That would be prettier--better. I like colour. But I wish I didn't.

Immediately another thought followed: something is wrong. Something is wrong if I feel like enjoying colour is wrong. Or lesser. I've surrounded myself with influences (more social media than in-person) who have subtly led me to believe this. That I'm somehow lesser because even when I simplify my life, it still looks like faded black t-shirts and bright lipstick. Even if I have less, it will always be colourful. That's just me. That's how I feel most at home.

Sometimes we apologize for things like quiet and colour and awkwardness. There's nothing wrong with them. You don't need to apologize for them.

So this morning I've been unfollowing folks (strangers mostly--don't worry) because my own mind has turned against me. You control who and what influence you. Turn off your phone or unfollow accounts that make you feel less then. If an account makes you feel like you're broken because you're not dating or married? Unfollow it. If an account makes you feel like you're less-than because of how you look? Unfollow it. Just because a lot of people like one thing, doesn't make it more beautiful. Just because few people like one thing, doesn't make it any less beautiful. The same goes for people. Don't let people's opinions of you sway how you see and value yourself (note to self).

Now, as a side note, this is not to say to only surround yourself with folks who look like you and express themselves like you. There's a fine line between inspiration and comparison and I tread it daily. But I don't want my inspiration to come from a screen. Yes, social media gives me access to millions of artists and cultures that I can't just walk outside and see. That's valuable. But there's also real people and real cultures all around me that I can actually love because I can actually go outside and talk to them. People who aren't vocationally artists are interesting and can inspire you. Demolition workers can inspire creativity in you. So can teachers. So can farmers. So can business owners. I don't want all my friends to be exactly like me. And I don't want to wish I was in a white room in the mountains when I can walk into a tiny grocery across the street and encounter something different, but equally beautiful.

I was immensely more creative with my life and with my art and with my wardrobe when I lived in Chicago and was simply surrounded by people who were different from me. Daily. Consistently. I didn't even have an Instagram. I want to exist more like that. Colourful and creative and creating and less conscious of what is cool and what isn't. More vividly aware of the beauty all around me. I want to change how and who I follow.

Follow people you want to be like.

In life and on social media. 

I want to follow the Bob Goffs. The Ruthie Lindseys. I want to be less about aesthetic and more about people. I love beauty in my room or wardrobe, but I never want to forget that the greatest beauty is inside people. Not my phone. If I forget that, I've lost everything.

So here's me. Emptying my phone and rearranging my colourful room and introducing myself again.

I'm Liz. I own 10 denim jackets--all different--and sometimes I drink mochas and I really enjoy listening to Taylor Swift. I look like a punk kid, but I'm rather an intersection of floral and grit. I'm hideously uncoordinated and have a big scar on my elbow. I'll always be short and I'll probably never be super twiggy and I'm learning to be okay with that. I'm an awful dancer but sometimes I do it anyways. Usually in my car. I like my hair best when it's short and messy (tell that to my 14-year-old self, please) and I really really love that we live in a world full of colour.

Be you and savor it with gratefulness. The world will miss out--you will miss out--if you try to be anyone else.

My 2017 Word by Liz Brown

Every year (okay, the last year or two) I've chosen a word to embody that year. This year it was "fearless" (more on that later). Late in 2015, it was clear that "fearless" was supposed to be my word.

This year it hasn't been quite so clear. I haven't been able to come up with a word. Not for lack of trying. I've been pondering what I've been learning recently: humility and grace and forgiveness and self-care and worth. But none of them seemed quite right. Then suddenly, in my plain little black office chair, it came to me: love.

I didn't want this word. I tried to think of another word to replace it in my mind. Love is too cheesy, I thought. Folks will think I'm just hunting for a fellow or a ring. It's not a creative word. It's overused. It's a poetic emotion, but it's not a particularly clever or poetic word. You can do better, Liz But can I?

I don't know why this word came to me. Maybe it's because I've been playing Noah Gundersen's "Ledges" in my head today (and in my car afterward): "I want to learn how to love, not just the feeling. Bear all the consequences."

I don't think I've had much practice in loving well (with the exception of one customer who I prayed for grace and love with every rude comment--the hardest thing, to bite my quick tongue), and it's a daunting thing to ask for. I've seen a bit of that hard love as I've looked into eyes that are breaking. I've seen secondhand heartache. But for the most part, my life is easy. My friends are kind. So are my coworkers. So are my roommates. Loving them is easy. Is it really love then? Is a convenient friendliness, a love without sacrifice, a comfortable love: is that really love at all? An easy road won't pave the way to a loving soul. This year will be difficult, but the cost is worth it. It has to be.

And yet: couldn't I find a better word? Or at the least: an easier one?

Asking for love is also asking to cultivate patience and kindness. A lack of envy. Humility. Rooting for others. Kind words. Graciousness. Selflessness. Slowness of anger. Forgiveness. Like, God, couldn't I pick just one of those? Love, in all its beautiful facets and outpourings, is incredibly daunting.

Not that I've mastered bravery in these past 12 months or that I'll master what it means to love well in the next 12 months. But, goodness, do I want to try. Even if it's hard. Even if folks thing I'm cheesy or overly-romantic (though can you really say that about a gal who lives in overalls?)--though that's not what most of love means. I want to lean into that word, in the deepest, grittiest sense of the definition of it, and use it as a reminder to love simply and deeply, daily and well. Even when it's hard. Especially when it's hard. God, help me.

I didn't know what I was getting into when I asked to be brave, and this year I'm more cautious in my prayers. Discomfort and difficultly are often the way to a beautiful soul. I don't take it lightly anymore. But I want to live well, and so much of living well is loving deeply. I don't know if I'm ready for this year or this word, but I'm going forth regardless.

"I want to learn how to love,
Not just the feeling.
Bear all the consequences."

Studio Tutorial by Liz Brown

My friend David came over to my house last night to teach a small group of us a tutorial on studio lighting. And, man, I think I might be hooked. These are some of my favourite shots from the evening (and, frankly, maybe some of my favourite shots ever).

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Silent Planet by Liz Brown

Last night, Silent Planet played a show in Des Moines (other bands on the tour to come!) and vocalist Garrett kindly got me set up with a photo pass. We met in August at a rehearsal for a wedding we were both in: he was my aisle-walking buddy and it was rad to see him in such a different context. People are wonderful and interesting and I like them. I hope you enjoy these shots as much as I enjoyed shooting and editing them. 

Indianapolis by Liz Brown

I hadn't been to Indianapolis since I was born, really. Then this November, we were there a little over 2 days, so I'm splitting the post into sections by days. The photos are relatively chronological; the following is my only photo from Friday. Mostly on Friday we were listening to Jason play and then eating and it wasn't quite the right moment for a photo.

Saturday morning began in our beautiful Airbnb. From there, we ate brunch (some of the best donuts of my life) and went antiquing and thrifting. I found the best denim jacket for $2.99, which you can see in the Sunday part of this post (keep scrolling). 

Saturday's photos ended with a dusky drive. On Sunday morning, after church (the same one my parents went to over 20 years ago!), we drove by the house I came home from the hospital to, then ate and explored Indianapolis one last time. (Photo of me was taken by Sarah.)

Current Location: Minneapolis by Liz Brown

Here we go. This is a long post and I don't know quite where to begin. A month ago, I sort of accidentally shot a LANY show and LANY's fans found the blog post and shared it dozens of times until it reached frontman Paul and cleared 1000 views. In one month. To give you perspective, most of my blog posts have about 37 views. On a good day, maybe 100 or 200. Nowhere near 1000.

I knew LANY had lots of fans, but I didn't realize how dedicated they were until that moment. When I'd refresh my analytics page every day to see another dozen or two views, I realized I'd stumbled upon something bigger. And these humans have been so kind in sharing my work. Even in the past few days, when my photos have been shared, they've been credited. And they've said such kind words. I was won over.

So I decided to do something at the Minneapolis show: fan photos. I've done a couple fan photos before, but nothing to this extent. But, then again, nothing to this extent had ever happened to any of my blog posts before. 

And last Saturday was the perfect time: my current location was also theirs. Minneapolis felt like both summer and fall in the best ways and even by mid-afternoon there was a block-long line of mostly girls and some boys, all clad in white sneakers and denim and handmade shirts, proclaiming love for the band. Hands clutched roses and eyes sparkled nervously in anticipation. There was a tent and a card game and pizza and more faces than I can count.

After meeting so many of these adorable little humans, I feel quite endeared to them. I want to adopt you all and take you to my favourite donut shops and thank you for being so kind. Which I realize sounds weird so I won't do that, but know I think you're darling and I'm so entirely grateful for you. Though I look young, I'm nearly twice as old as some of you, rather closer to the age of the LANY boys. And I feel like you're like my little musical sisters (and brothers) and the cutest humans.

So this is for you. Because it's easy to forget. And if someone hasn't told you recently, I want to tell you:

You're beautiful and valuable and I believe in you. Don't stop being passionate about things. Create. Take risks and don't be afraid to ask for help. Live honestly and don't be embarrassed of what you like (I can sing every Taylor Swift album front-to-back--no shame). Keep looking at the world with wonder and don't let anyone convince you to be cynical. Live unashamedly enthusiastically. Stop for sunsets and cute animals. Chase light. Put sprinkles on all of your food. Skip and dance instead of walking just because. Write poetry about good days and bad days and normal days. It's okay to have normal days. Not every day has to be spectacular to be important. Don't let anyone tell you your life isn't worthwhile or important. Or that you have to be famous to be valuable. It's not true. You're infinitely valuable. Being cool is overrated. I've never been cool (I used to own off-brand pink Crocs); it's okay. Life is more than followers or likes--the social media kind  or the kind from a boy or girl. Sing obnoxiously loud to the radio because you have lungs and you like the melody. Drink lots of water. Dream really really really big because I believe that dreams are immensely important and you can create something spectacular. Don't let your dreams daunt you. Learn to ask good questions and listen well--this is a game changer and something I'm still learning. It's okay to rest sometimes. Be kind even when it's hard. You'll have good days and you'll have bad days; just take it one day at a time and don't be afraid to ask for help on the bad days. Run up hills and roll down them and jump into leaves and into puddles (I still do this) because life is short and you'll grow older but you don't have to grow up, I promise. Yes, adulting is hard (I'm not good at it), but it doesn't have to make you boring and it doesn't have to steal your joy. Hope is powerful and love is powerful and you're not alone. We're in this together, okay?

That was long, but I'm full of words and I like you lots and want you to know those things. That all being said, here are the photos of your lovely faces.

Instead of curating the photos into groups like I did with the concert images, these are exactly in the order I took them (with the one exception of the very first image). I started at the beginning of the line, by the gals who won meet-and-greets, and by the folks who'd be waiting since the day before, and took photos all the way to the corner of the block. These are the faces.

I don't have a brilliant conclusion or one photo that sums up the entire afternoon, but I just have a few words. LANY fans, you're beautiful. Thank you for your kindness and for welcoming me on the internet and in real life. I like you lots.

Bad Bad Badlands by Liz Brown

The past month has been a whirlwind and crazy in the best way. I stumbled upon the opportunity to shoot LANY in Omaha a few weeks ago and due to the kindness of Lany fans, the blog post cleared 1000 view in less than a month. Insane. Thank you.

Bear with me for a moment as I back up. To give you perspective on how ridiculously unlikely and serendipitous Saturday was. It's a good story. Last fall, nearly a year to a day today, I drove back alone from Ann Arbor to Des Moines, mapping out coffee shops in larger cities along the way to break up my 9-hour drive. One of those coffee shops I found was Dagger Mountain. At the precise moment I walked in, I was the only customer, and thus struck up a conversation with the barista. In our conversation, we learned we had several uncommon places and events in common; and through that conversation, Matt and I became friends. When I traveled to LA, he introduced me via Instagram to his friend Steph. I tweeted a few weeks ago that I was looking to shoot LANY again with my friend Blake, but the Minneapolis date was sold out. Did anyone have any extra tickets? Steph knows Steve, who's on the Kinda Tour, and she introduced us via Twitter; and he got us set up to shoot the evening. And to make this story crazier, Blake and I only met about 6 months ago, via Instagram. I had never even heard of LANY before he introduced me to them. So this is all to say, yes, I did take these photos, but I can't take credit for much of this adventure. It's quite a bit of serendipity and even more generosity of other people. Thank you, LANY. Thank you, Steve and Steph. Thank you, Matt. Thank you, Blake. Thank you, LANY fans, you've welcomed me in so kindly this past month. These photos are for all of you.

Also, before I begin, there's a LANY/Halsey mashup Instagram account named "Bad Bad Badlands" and I thought the name was so clever that I used it for the blog post title, but it's not original to me.

Blake is my LANY roadtrip buddy. He's the same Blake who introduced me to LANY. None of this magic would've happened without him. He picked all the best music for the drive north and we explored Minneapolis most of the day, drinking coffee and eating 9 pieces of pizza and taking photos. He shot the show with me so be on the lookout for his photos! And he rocked overalls all day, which is basically an art, too.

While hanging out by my car and drinking cold brew coffee and weird beef jerky from Whole Foods, Blake and I saw Jake walk by. Naturally (nervously), I asked him for a portrait. He was quite kind and said yes. If you'd like to see portraits of all the boys, I have some here. If I was to get one portrait, though, it was lovely to get one of Jake because, as you'll see, most of the concert photos are of Paul. Primarily because there was no photo pit and from the spot I was posted up, Les was quite far away and Jake had a cymbal straight through the middle of his head. Even on my tipiest toes, with my camera up as high as I could reach, I could barely catch his face. Rather unfortunate, but what seems unfortunate is not always entirely so. I mean, it's still unfortunate that I didn't get many swell shots of Jake and Les. But. If there had been a photo pit, I would've only been able to shoot the first three songs and I would have missed shooting the surprise encore (more on that later). What seems unfortunate is not always so. Remember that.

With encouragement from Blake (I still get crazy nervous butterflies every time I approach a stranger to ask for a portrait), I took photos of the first block of LANY fans, most of whom had been waiting for hours, some since the prior day. Dedication. They were immensely kind and adorable. To keep this post from being dozens of photos long, I'm limiting it to mostly concert photos and a couple portraits. I'll have a general Minneapolis adventure post and a post entirely of fans in a bit. Deal? I promise I didn't forget about all your photos. You're beautiful humans. Speaking of beautiful humans, let's jump right in--shall we?

Doors opened at 6 and Transviolet took the stage at 7:15. They'll be in a separate post, too (I'm committing myself to a lot, I suppose), but meanwhile, these are photos from their Omaha show. LANY was slated to go on at 8:15, and took the stage around 8:25 to a room of screaming and the sound of Whitney Houston singing. 

More than perfect, I want my photos to feel real. Like you're there. If you were there, I hope you remember how it felt.

That's why many of these photos are in black and white. That's how a LANY concert feels. Deep and grainy and nostalgic and alive.

One girl (or perhaps a few) in line handed out cut bits of streamers and the whole group of them slipped the pieces of paper between their phone cases and phone lights. When "Pink Skies" began, they held up their phones, all glowing rosily across the high ceiling, like pink fireflies or stars. As the song goes, "it's better you and I, under pink skies." When the skies are gray and November, you create your own pink skies. "You'll want a photo of this," one girl to my right whispered to me before the song began. And I sure did.

The band left, but not moments later, they were back up the stairs for an encore. ILYSB. Then suddenly frontman Paul looked to his right, towards the stairs and door they'd just come out of and waved, motioned for someone to come up on stage, too. It was Halsey. I lost it. Everyone lost it. They sang "ILYSB" as a duet and it was everything you could hope for. Tumblr come to life in the best way. Because this was what made this tour date in particular stand out, what differentiated it from every other night, I've included quite a few photos of that moment.

To stunned, overjoyed, incredulous screams, Halsey left the stage. A few moments later, the LANY boys took a bow and, reaching out one last time towards the hands extended to them, left the stage as well.

Yea, babe, maybe love sucks sometimes. But LANY concerts sure don't. I like them lots.