Drake University Trump Rally and Protests /
There was a national spectacle (I mean, a Trump rally and a protest of the rally) within walking distance, and while you might not think of me as a political photographer, both music and political photography involve capturing real movement and emotion and events, so I didn’t feel out of my element (at least creatively—the event itself was not my element). I got shots of the rally crowd, but also the protesters. I hope these images make you feel something, but more than that, I hope they make you think. I hope you believe your voice and your camera and your words and your vote mean something—because they do.
Also, these images are not chronological, but were shot over the course of an hour.
While the protestors stood at the top of a snow bank, protesters of the protesters came and unveiled a Trump banner and waved political signs.
At the bottom of the hill and on the sidewalk areas stood a mix of supporters, protesters, and journalists.
Things I’ve Learned about the Sun (And None of Them are Scientific) /
The Beginning
I don’t believe in bait-and-switches. I highly value authenticity (can you say, enneagram 4?), so I should let you know up front: this story is mostly about a tattoo.
But it’s also about life and growth and friendship and boys, and if you’re still willing to read this, don’t say I didn’t warn you.
I’ve wanted to get a sun tattoo for quite some time. In fact, I have a sub-folder in pinterest dedicated to iterations of the idea. I made it 33 weeks ago (I checked), which for someone who has gotten 3 out of her 19 tattoos as walk-in’s, feels like a long time.
Where did this idea come from?
I think the idea was birthed, as was most of my greater life change, in Chicago. At the Chicago public school I volunteered at in 2012, there was a speech exercise on a wipe board that read: “surely we shall see the sun shine soon.” I still remember it and love it. I cling to that in the darkness. The sun always rises and it will rise again. Just wait.
So the idea of a sun began to take shape in my mind.
The Boy
5 years and 4 months ago (August 2014), I wrote these words:
“Sometimes endings look strangely like beginnings. We place our hopes in moments and men and the sadness is neither last and both fade away.”
I wrote those words in a letter to a man I’d been smitten with for almost 5 years. Which means my words to him have sliced the past decade in half with emotion. There were five years that prefaced those words and five years have proceeded them now.
However, 5 years ago, I never sent that letter. I wrote those words and let them go and told myself that if he had moved on, I could, too. Sometimes endings look strangely like beginnings and sometimes we have to accept the endings and let go of hopes unfinished and dreams undone.
But 5 years later (this year, in fact), he was still a Great Perhaps in my mind, so—braver now—I wrote those same words again in ink on fresh stationary—and I sent them this time. Perhaps this is a sunrise. Perhaps it is an echo of that familiar sunset. Perhaps all that will tell the truth is time.
I’m far too savvy to get tattoos for boys, but I’m all too well-versed in getting tattoos for the lessons I’ve learned because of them. Through this boy (though he doesn’t know it), I learned that beginnings and endings look mysteriously the same and sometimes dreams fade away. But new horizons and new sunrises will come anyway. There’s always hope at daybreak.
Dusk and Dawn
Lately life has been a strange series of dead dreams and new beginnings, often all meshed into the same events. It’s confusing and beautiful and I’ve learned so much.
A sunrise and a sunset are the same sun and the only difference is where you stand. My sunset is a sunrise in a different time zone. Perspective is everything. Maybe so is timing.
Sunsets and sunrises also look the same from the inside. It really just depends on what side of the horizon you’re living on. You don’t know always know which side you’re on when you’re living inside the dusky violet grays of dawn and dusk.
A relationship ending may look like a gray sky. But is that the sun setting on the old story or rising on a new one—or both? A job changing may look like a gray sky. But is that the sun setting on the old story or rising on a new one—or both? The gray could lead into an inky indigo night or it could lead into a golden dawn. You don’t know when you arrive in the dusky gray.
Truly, I think we’re always living in the dusky restless of the in-between: never knowing if what we’re experiencing is the beginning of a sunrise or the end of a sunset—because dawn and dusk look much the same. So we wait to see if the sky lightens or darkens. We wait for morning.
And the beauty is: eventually morning aways come. Sometimes it just takes living through the night to see the dawn.
I think the dawn finally broke in my life a few months ago, and while there’s still gray days, there’s more sunshine than rain and I’m thankful because I know it doesn’t always have to be that way.
Daylight
On a much more superficial level, it was Friday the 13th and I’ve wanted a Friday the 13th tattoo for a couple years—ever since New York with Marleen in September.
And Friday was also Taylor Swift’s birthday, which I realize is silly, but it’s also fun! And she’s narrated a large part of the last decade of my life (she was my top artist of the decade on Spotify). I remember high school and angst about a guitar-playing, swooshy-haired boy (who didn’t have a crush on one of those?) who didn’t like me back and listening to “You Belong with Me.” I remember the “Fearless” tour and surprise tickets with Katy and wearing cowboy boots with a romper and the feeling of magic. I remember “Enchanted” with Bekah and our squealing delight when Adam re-recorded it. I remember a planetary-themed cafe in Chicago and Red on repeat and learning I loved maple lattes in the fall. I remember a bridge and a boy and a song and how that song still takes me back to that fall all over again. I remember driving to two Walmarts at midnight with a stuffed cat and a determination to find 1989 and I remember sitting in the car with Brittany until 1am, listening to every track and deciphering every secret message. I remember Sarah and Alyssa sitting in a hectic mattress store and Megan calling me on my drive back from Ames, letting me know that she had tickets for me. I remember literally running through the arena as the opening melodies of “Welcome to New York” played. Everything about that was fast and surprising and perfect. I remember the breakfast at midnight that I almost napped through (sorry, Brittany!) on the night before I turned 23. I remember red lips and a James Dean haircut; I remember hearing her describe “Out of the Woods,” and realizing I had run into my own forest. I remember New York for the first time and listening to that song when I landed and I remember walking through her streets with headphones in and realizing that THIS is how that album was supposed to be experienced: in New York, on foot, full of exhaustion and magic and wide eyes. I remember album theories with Cambria and “Lover” on my bedroom floor with Kassie. These songs have been a beautiful, instrumental soundtrack of my 20’s and I’ve felt happy and sad and free and understood and confused and lonely—in the best way—in my car and on the floor and dancing in a dorm room.
One of Taylor’s most recent songs was “Daylight”:
“I only see daylight…
I once believed love would be burning’ red,
But it’s golden….
Like daylight,
It’s golden.
Like daylight,
You gotta step into the daylight and let it go.
Just let it go.
Let it go.
I want to be defined by the things I love.
Not the things I hate,
Not the things I’m afraid of,
The things that haunt me in the middle of the night,
I just think you are what you love.”
People are Important
So all these factors into consideration, I landed on the idea of a sunshine tattoo for Friday the 13th.
I had never planned to get the sunshine on my finger, but somehow the idea came to me and it felt right. It felt right to have one finger be about letting go and the other about beginning again. I never mean the image to be mirrored, but I’d drawn it on both sides of my finger to see what I preferred—and realized I liked both. I like that it’s a mirror image, like a sunset or sunrise over water—with just a touch of a shadow, because that’s how dawn and dusk chase out the darkness.
Recently Kassie (who also got tattooed by Rayna) and I talked about how we’d been friends for 5 years and Rayna and I realized we’d been friends for 4. It feels like forever. I love that a friend tattooed this reminder on my skin because female friendships, especially those in the creative community, have ben a transformative part of my past decade. This decade has seen me lost and found, losing friendships and gaining ground and vice versa over and over. It’s seen me feeling alone and understood and every valley in between. It’s seen me the only female freelancer in the room and it’s seen me in the middle of the Des Moines Girl Gang at its peak. It’s seen me be the closest to female creators and to also find my own spaces. I’ve learned about learning with one another rather than competing. I’ve learned about valuing my own art, as well as my colleagues and I’ve learned a lot about valuing people more than anything else. More than a career or a project or an art piece of a networking connection. If people aren’t being cared for and valued—I need to reevaluate why I’m there and maybe change what I’m doing.
My mantra has become: people are important—therefore, portraits are important. People are important—therefore, stories are important.
It felt good and right to have another female creative and a friend be the one to ink my skin this time. People are important. So are words. So are moments.
The End of a Decade
Last but not least, there’s a final reason for this tattoo.
It was my 19th tattoo, which means my first tattoo in 2020 will be my 20th, which felt right.
Here I am, edging in on 30, and right at the brink of 2020.
Getting a tattoo on the 13th to bookmark the end of this decade just felt right.
In Taylor’s own words: “It was the end of a decade—but the start of an age.”
I’m learning to both lean in and let go and I’m learning life is much about the dusky tension in between.
I got the sun in ink on fresh skin, just like I sent those old words in fresh ink to a boy who has likely forgotten my name, but I am living deeply and speaking honestly and investing in good women and good stories and I will not reach 30 without some more hardship and beauty: that’s all I’m sure of.
The Things I’ve Learned From the Sun
So is 2020 an end or a beginning?
I daresay it’s both. I daresay we live in the dusky in between, just waiting for morning. But while I’m waiting, I’m choosing road trips and tattoos and dancing with friends to songs over years. I’m choosing hope and I’m choosing second cups of coffee and delicious old fashioned’s and cheap flights and new cities and old friends.
Because I’m nothing but a romantic, I’ll conclude with a bit of a poem:
You tell me if this is dusk or dawn—
but for now,
either way,
open hands:
we wait for morning
(because eventually it comes and we wake again).
Wait for the morning, dear soul (I’m speaking to myself, too). Wait for the morning. And dance.
P.S. I’d already decided on this idea, but Harry Styles releasing an album with a track called “Golden” felt super confirming, so here we are.
Lady Gaga : Disposable Camera /
This was the genuine feeling: what is my life?! How am I even here?! I was overnighted super close floor seats to Lady Gaga’s performance at Wrigley field in Chicago in August of 2017. It felt magical and surreal and I felt like a queen—second only to THE queen Lady Gaga. Thank you so much, Chris and Interscope, for treating me so well. I was a sparkly Cinderella for a night, dancing my booty off to pop bops.
Since I wasn’t formally shooting, I didn’t bring my “real” camera, but I definitely brought a disposable, primarily to document the fans and fashion of the evening. It didn’t disappoint.
This was one of the two photographers who asked for my photo; I told him he could have it if I could have his.
My friend Matt came in clutch and showed up last-minute to hang out!
“Can I take your photo?” “Yes!—if you’re in it, too!” “Deal!”
Before the show, a couple photographers asked to shoot my outfit which, especially in Chicago, especially at a Lady Gaga show, feels like a huge compliment (because it is). One of the photographers was from a newspaper and the other was from WWD. This will show my naivety, but I figured it was like a local music or fashion publication or blog. Once I posted about it, one of my friends told me that actually it’s a pretty big deal. I had no ideal. I was just living my life in my $20 thrifted outfit in a gifted seat and somehow I ended up here, on WWD’s site. Anyways, I said it before and I’ll say it again: I don’t deserve any of this and I’m incredibly grateful to set foot in these spaces. Who would’ve thought this is where I’d end up? Not me. For sure, not me.
Billie Eilish: United Center /
This summer marked the 4th time I’ve photographed Billie Eilish, each tour at an exceedingly larger venue than the last. When I saw her for the 1st time three years ago, I knew she was destined for something big, but I had no idea how big—and how fast it would all happen. Within 3 years she went from a tiny 165-cap club to a 23,500-cap giant stadium, both in Chicago (my favorite city in the world). One might call Billie’s lyrics dark, but I love that she has held space and created a space where tweens and teens and even adults can begin conversations about dark thoughts and difficult feelings, the hard and heavy things of existence. She’s shown it’s okay to not be okay all the time—you can get through it and turn your pain into poetry. I wish there was someone like her when I was 15, and I’m so thankful she exists now.
The fan photos from Chicago are here. Her show at a 507-cap Chicago venue is here. And I’m realizing I need to make a blog post of her very first tour because apparently I don’t have that yet (and definitely should!).
Colouring : Portraits /
written on May 23, 2017
The first time I listened to Colouring was in a Steak 'n' Shake drive-thru in Indianapolis. It was the only the second time I'd been to the city since I was five and the first time I'd met Abby, my friend and fellow late-night Steak 'n' Shake consumer. We were driving home and talking about bands that were perfect for late-night drives--bands like Coldplay and Paper Kites--and Abby asked if I'd listened to Colouring before. I hadn't. So while we waited for our burgers and vanilla Cokes, I listened to them for the very first time. Little did I know, in just a few short weeks, I'd be a couple states over shooting their portraits.
The day of the show and the shoot, I was excited and nervous all day. Goodness, I was shooting the show and portraits of this adorable British band and, to top it all my nerves off, it was raining. Pouring, really. When we met late in the afternoon, I'm sure I was a bit of a sight: orange men's beanie pulled over my carefully straightened purple hair, soaked black hoodie, black leather pants, denim jacket tied around my camera bag in a last-ditch attempt to keep it dry. But the Colouring fellows didn't blink at it and asked me questions about my day and my home and my photography. Immediately, they set me at ease.
Because of the rain, most outdoor locations were ruled out, but we also couldn't shoot in the venue. But before our shoot, I'd wandered around a bit and found a couple dry nooks within a block of the arena. These photos were all within a block's walk and we took them all in about 40 minutes, including walking time.
Playground Portraits /
Otherwise entitled: when 2 ennegram 4’s are left unattended. We went from doing a photo walk to being super pumped about a cool wall to being way excited about a play ground to playing on the playground to taking photos and videos of playing on the playground. Our ideas and imagination and adventures ran unhindered!
Machine Gun Kelly /
Machine Gun Kelly played at Wells Fargo Arena in Des Moines, Iowa, on October 29th, 2019. I shot the show for Interscope Records.
Anna /
November 22, 2016 in Kansas City
