While I listened to Inhaler on my way to their show, that was my only exposure to them prior to shooting their set. However, the crowd was super kind and welcoming, the music was great, and these are some of my favorite rock’n’roll-esque photos I’ve ever taken. Like ever. I hope you enjoy them!
Harryween, Night 1: Fan Fashion /
If you’ve been around here for a minute, you know I’ve document Harry Styles’ fans’ fashion at almost every single New York show (night 1 and night 3). But the Harryween show: that was my Met Gala. I have been looking forward to this night for SO long and I definitely went a bit overboard, documenting over 200 (!!!) looks!
With each show, I’ve organized the photos in different categories, mostly for my own sanity. For this show, I arranged them in correlation with the song titles from Harry’s two albums. Enjoy!
P.S. If you’re in this post, details on how to obtain your image are at the bottom. Thank you!
1. Meet Me in… Madison Square Garden
Imagine being the person Harry dressed like, because I cannot imagine.
2. Sign of the Times
3. Carolina
4. Two Ghosts
5. Sweet Creature
6. Only Angel
7. Kiwi
This category/song title I took a little less literally and based the section on the line about the black dress—so the looks are black dresses or all-black outfits.
8. Ever Since New York
This section I made about creativity and nostalgia and the way we will all feel looking back on this someday.
9. Woman
Yes, I stretched this category a little, but we’ve got to do what we’ve got to do. I took the “romantic comedies” line and just turned it into a section of movie-and-character-inspired outfits!
10. From the Dining Table
This is very literal. These costumes are things you’d find on a dining table. By that I mean food.
1. Golden
2. Watermelon Sugar
I put all the Grammy’s inspired looks here (from the “Watermelon Sugar” performance) and the watermelon and strawberry looks.
3. Adore You
First of all, I am obsessed with this group “Adore You” costume. Second, I really ran with the fish theme and included our other “under the sea” outfits here, too.
4. Lights Up
5. Cherry
We had a lot of fun pink outfits, so while, yes, I know cherries are mostly red, I felt like it still sort of worked and all felt cute together. And when you listen to “Cherry” it really feels like a pastel song.
6. Falling
They made this replica outfit to look like something worn at the real Los Angeles Beachwood Cafe!
Fall outfits… the song “Falling.” Yes, this is a bad dad joke.
The yellow suit outfit is a replica of what Harry wore to the 2020 BRIT Awards where he performed—you guessed it—”Falling.”
7. To Be So Lonely
Is anyone more lonely than superheroes and superstars?
8. She
9. Sunflower, Vol. 6
10. Canyon Moon
11. Treat People With Kindness
This category sort of became a catch-all, especially for groups, but that doesn’t mean your costume wasn’t amazing! That just means your energy and care for each other and kindness was what shone through the most.
If you’ve made it this far, thank you!
If you let me take your photo, thank you for trusting me. If you’re simply reading this, thank you for gifting me with your time. It’s our most irreplaceable individual resource and it means a lot to know you’d spend some of yours with me and my stories and my art.
If you see your face in this post and would like a copy of that photo, please email me at estorie@outlook.com. Don’t get me wrong, I love getting cheerful and excited dm’s! Send away—I love meeting y’all! But for more logistical things like getting you your photo, email is more effective: dm’s get buried super easily and we don’t want that. Let me know which photo is you and I’ll send it to you as soon as I can! Feel free to use it on social media, but please caption-tag me (@estorie on Instagram, @estorieco on Twitter, and @estoriethegirl on Tik Tok—yes, I wish bots didn’t snatch my matching handles, too). Please don’t crop, edit, or otherwise change the images. If you want to use them anywhere else (publications, promotional material, anything published online or in a physical form, etc.), just shoot me an email and we can talk details. Sound good?
If you enjoyed this post and would like to work with me, the same is true. Just send me an email: estorie@outlook.com! I’m available for articles, portraits, live music shoots, street style—and whatever other ideas you might have.
If you enjoyed this post (start-to-finish, all of this—shooting, culling, editing, writing, uploading—took about 14 hours!) and would like to support me as an artist, my venmo is @estorie! Thank you!
12. Fine Line
Harry Styles, Love On Tour New York: Fan Fashion, Pt. 2 /
Welcome back to fan fashion at Harry Styles Love On Tour! Last time, I grouped the photos by a variety of different categories and I found that worked really well. So this time I did the same thing, but with different categories—primarily by color and described by lyrics. The first set of photos is the only exception, as I couldn’t resist a good Gossip Girl pun for the steps images. Can you blame me?
You know you love me…
xoxo, Love On Tour
On a couple different occasions, I ran into the same people I photographed on night one! Our friendly banana sunflower was one of those! I love that this creative endeavor has now become an avenue of connection. If you ask me why I love photography, that opportunity for connection is at the top of the list.
“strawberry lipstick state of mind”
If you guessed that this section is full of pink and pink-adjacent outfits, then you’re right!
“in a black dress”
Soooo… I took some liberties with this section (meaning if one person in the group had one article of black clothing, I put the photo here), but I feel like it all still vibes, right?
Remember the sparkly cowboy hat from October 3rd? She’s baaaaaack! Once again, I loved recognizing folks from the early tour date. So fun!
“pay attention, I hope that you listen,
'cause I let my guard down”
This show had some amazing earrings and they definitely merited their own section.
“same lips red, same eyes blue”
This section is all about those red and blue outfits (duh).
can someone find me a Harry Styles lyric
about the color green?
“you’re so golden”
Both sides of this sign had Taylor Swift lyrics and honestly we love to see it.
“I've got your face, hung up high in the gallery”
While signs stole the show during the first MSG show, it was the cardboard cutouts that dominated the third sold-out night. The queen of England was my particular favorite, but I was informed that the last fellow is actually someone in Harry’s band—with his face stuck on Harry’s body, which is pretty funny.
“she’s dressed as a banana”
This photo was really cute and didn’t fit in any exact category so it’s bookending this post (or maybe just ending it). But I want to specifically clarify that I am not implying that anyone in this image is a banana.
The End
If you’ve made it this far, thank you!
If you let me take your photo, thank you for trusting me. If you’re simply reading this, thank you for gifting me with your time. It’s our most irreplaceable individual resource and it means a lot to know you’d spend some of yours with me and my stories and my art.
If you see your face in this post and would like a copy of that photo, please email me at estorie@outlook.com. Don’t get me wrong, I love getting cheerful and excited dm’s! Send away—I love meeting y’all! But for more logistical things like getting you your photo, email is more effective: dm’s get buried super easily and we don’t want that. Let me know which photo is you and I’ll send it to you as soon as I can! Feel free to use it on social media, but please caption-tag me (@estorie on Instagram, @estorieco on Twitter, and @estoriethegirl on Tik Tok—yes, I wish bots didn’t snatch my matching handles, too). If you want to use it anywhere else (publications, promotional material, anything published online or in a physical form, etc.), just shoot me an email and we can talk details. Sound good?
If you enjoyed this post and would like to work with me, the same is true. Just send me an email: estorie@outlook.com! I’m available for articles, portraits, live music shoots, street style—and whatever other ideas you might have.
If you enjoyed this post and would like to support me as an artist, my venmo is @estorie! Thank you!
Harry Styles, Love on Tour New York: Fan Fashion /
Over the pandemic, I thought a lot and wrote a little about the way fans shape a concert experience. That’s why livestreams—while a creative shift during a difficult season—weren’t the same. So much of a live music experience is in the way we experience it together. Even if you show up alone, you aren’t alone, not really.
I knew this intellectually, but it didn’t really set in fully until I went to a One Direction dance party about a month ago.
There was no band there, just a DJ, but everyone still dressed up. In some ways, they dressed up even more than they would at a One Direction show because there was no chance that any band member would see them, so they could be their funnest, nerdiest fan selves. They showed up in the most unique shirts and outfits and they showed up ready to dance. I think this is fan culture and community at its best and most pure and most beautiful.
My friend Maggie and I ended up at the back of the room and to our right was a group of friends. I don’t even remember the song, but at one point they put their arms around each other, singing and dancing and and jumping and swaying. Tonight. Together. Happy. Alive.
I knew I was going to write this story for this blog post after that dance party. Then this morning I woke up to a video of the Kiwi Pit. Watch this and tell me it’s not about the feeling, it’s not about being together, it’s not about the midnight memories we make dancing together to the best song ever (sorry, I couldn’t resist).
This post is divided into titled sections and there’s information at the very bottom about how to get ahold of me if you see yourself in one of the photos or if you’d like to hire me! Thank you for reading, for showing up, for dancing.
Close-Ups
Some folks had an accessory or wardrobe highlight or tattoo that really popped and they were kind enough to say “yes” when I asked for an extra photo.
Sign(s) of the Times
The Power of Harry Lambert
A quick aside: I asked the folks above for a photo, assuming they were all friends and coordinated this look. When I finished shooting, I asked them if they planned it. Not only did they not plan it, but they didn’t even know each other! They literally just randomly ended up in line together—the odds!
If you’re new here, Harry Lambert is Harry Styles’ stylist and one of the top people I’d want to work with someday (if you’re reading this, please email me: estorie@outlook.com!). I studied styling and really respect his eye and the way he can put together a unique outfit that embodies what’s next. Innovation and creativity. That’s the thing.
He was the one who put Harry in the iconic leather suit and boa outfit at the Grammy’s. That look was worn one single night and Harry hasn’t been spotted in a boa since. But you wouldn’t believe how many boas I saw outside Madison Square Garden. That man’s power to influence an entire generation of fashion! We love to see it.
One of the other iconic looks he’s revived is 70’s-style pants (and pantsuits) that we have seen on Harry Styles since his 2017-2018 tour.
Last but not least, Harry Lambert styled Harry Styles in the now-Tik-Tok-viral JW Anderson cardigan. Harry Styles wore this look on Good Morning America in late 2019. Shortly after, the pandemic hit and homebound fans took to learning knitting and crocheting, teaching themselves how to make this cardigan. Instead of getting annoyed at the imitations or trying to shut them down, the brand instead responded with gratefulness, thanking fans and even releasing their exact pattern to make creating it even easier! That’s really treating people with kindness, am I right?
Fan-Made
No shade to Harry Styles & co., but the Harry Styles fan-made merch consistently blows the “official” merch out of the water. If you spend any amount of time on Harry Styles (or One Direction) Tik Tok, you’re bound to see creative stickers, phone cases, necklaces, shirts, and sweaters. Please link me to your favorite creators by commenting below so I can go Christmas shopping for my sister!
To Be So Lonely
Just kidding, I don’t think going anywhere alone has to be lonely. Honestly, it can be pretty fun! As someone who has gone to a lot of concerts alone, I have so much respect for the folks who love something enough to show up alone, all dressed up and ready to dance in a crowd full of strangers. It’s a unique sort of bravery and vulnerability. And that’s far more beautiful than lonely.
Two Pretty Best Friends
I would like to submit these images as proof that two pretty best friends do indeed exist.
'Cause your friends,
They look good and you look better
Name that song!
Berries (and Watermelons and Bananas) and Cream!
If you’re wondering why “she’s dressed as a banana,” just watch this.
The End
If you’ve made it this far, thank you!
If you let me take your photo, thank you for trusting me. If you’re simply reading this, thank you for gifting me with your time. It’s our most irreplaceable individual resource and it means a lot to know you’d spend some of yours with me and my stories and my art.
If you see your face in this post and would like a copy of that photo, please email me at estorie@outlook.com. Don’t get me wrong, I love getting cheerful and excited dm’s! Send away—I love meeting y’all! But for more logistical things like getting you your photo, email is more effective: dm’s get buried super easily and we don’t want that. Let me know which photo is you and I’ll send it to you as soon as I can! Feel free to use it on social media, but please caption-tag me (@estorie on Instagram, @estorieco on Twitter, and @estoriethegirl on Tik Tok—yes, I wish bots didn’t snatch my matching handles, too). If you want to use it anywhere else (publications, promotional material, anything published online or in a physical form, etc.), just shoot me an email and we can talk details. Sound good?
If you enjoyed this post and would like to work with me, the same is true. Just send me an email: estorie@outlook.com! I’m available for articles, portraits, live music shoots, street style—and whatever other ideas you might have.
If you enjoyed this post (start-to-finish, all of this—shooting, culling, editing, writing, uploading—took about 10 hours!) and would like to support me as an artist, my venmo is @estorie! Thank you!
Gracie Abrams: New York, Night 1 /
Keep scrolling for more photos!
The best part of my job is that I’m simultaneously an observer and a participant in something beautiful. It’s like being a bridesmaid. It’s not your wedding, but you’re there and you’re somehow part of it: a spectator and an observer, but you’re also bringing value to the moment by being there. Your gaze, your presence, the way you show up in that place and bear witness: it matters. And that’s what I remind myself. My gaze, my presence, how I show up in that place and how I interact and how I carry my camera and how I use my eyes: it matters.
That is really the only way that being a music photographer is like being a bridesmaid. I’ve definitely never shot a show in a floor-length dress from David’s Bridal (if you know, you know). But I’m there, holding the figurative space between being part of it and being outside of it; and holding the physical space between the stage and the crowd; and holding my camera and sometimes holding my breath. However, you better believe I’m singing along (if I know the song) or dancing or sometimes crying, all while working. If you went to any of the All-American Rejects shows a couple summers ago, you definitely saw me skipping and hollering “Swing, Swing” along with the crowd while I worked. I’m not part of the crowd—not really—but I’m in it and what I’m doing changes the way you’ll remember the night. Or at least that’s my hope. I carry a lot of hope into those dark rooms. Most of my hope is found in the humans. Most of my hope is for my age peers and for those that are coming up after us. It’s for the dancers and the outcasts, the ones who show up to shows alone and who are brave enough to say “hello” to the person next to them.
Since the Gracie Abrams show was pit-free and I had the time, I showed up early so I wouldn’t be that photographer who shows up late and tries to cut the whole line—and then gets stuck standing next to those same bummed or angry fans all evening. No one likes that experience so I try to avoid it as much as I possibly can by getting there early and waiting it out with everyone else. Drew Barrymore said something yesterday that I just can’t shake. She began: “I care what people think [of me]”—she paused and corrected herself: “No, I care how people feel.”
And there is the nuance. You can do everything right in your career and sometimes people just won’t like you because of your haircut or the color you highlight a spreadsheet or something equally miniscule. You can’t control how people perceive you and to the degree you can’t control it, you can’t hold it too tightly. But how people feel around you—while you also can’t really control their feelings—you can control the way you treat them with kindness (yes, cue Harry Styles). So that’s the kind of career I want to live. It’s taken me a long time and I feel like I’m still on the runway, waiting to take off. But I also know that the people I’ve worked with have received beautiful images and I’ve gained their respect and that’s worth so much more than a quick fix. Kindness: it matters.
Since I was waiting anyways, I decided to do fan photos. It’s easily been 2 years since I’ve done them, really (shoutout to Covid for that). I still get nervous every time: it took me about 25 minutes to talk myself into it. But then I did and almost everyone said “yes.” The last gal just lit up, grinning, with the most enthusiastic “yes” I’ve heard. And then I remember why I do this: yes, it’s creativity, but it’s also the people, the connection, the being part of something big and beautiful.
After photographing the fans all the way to the corner of Ludlow, I made my way back to my perch by the nail salon (cue Lorde). It wasn’t until I starting to shuffle towards the door that I realized (remembered really—I’ve thought of this before) that I’m just the right person for this. While, yes, it is hard sometimes to see yet another inexperienced dude get a huge tour while I’ve worked hard for a decade (cue Olivia Rodrigo: “jealousy, jealousy”—at this point I’ve cued enough songs, I probably should make an accompanying playlist), do you think the moms in line would let a random dude take a photo of their daughter? Probably not. I’m basically the size of a 15-year-old and as a result I’m way more approachable and way less intimidating.
This thought always follows: there are spaces made and meant for me. I don’t even know all of them yet, but they exist and I won’t miss what’s mean for me. I will find myself and I will be found. And I’m here right now and that’s exactly where I’m supposed to be. So here’s my reminder for you: you’re right where you’re supposed to be. There are opportunities and paths ahead of you that are shaped just the way you are made. You have not missed out on what’s meant for you. So dance through the sad songs and lean in because where you’re headed is golden.
Right at 6 when doors were supposed to open, someone walked by with their phone ringing. The ringtone? “I’ve got your picture, I’m coming with you, dear Maria count me in!”
And somehow that song, that moment, as I walked into a dark room full of strangers, all holding the same songs behind their eyes and in their throats for a night: somehow it all feels like exactly where I’m supposed to be. If you ask me why I keep doing this work, why I exist in this musical periphery, this story, these moments, these are the reasons. The belonging, the becoming, the space between the crowd and the stage, the space between what I see in through my camera and what I share with the world. It’s beauty in the faces of the crowd and the beauty in the pauses between songs as the artist notices the crowd singing along and grins. It’s catching my breath and catching flickers of light and on lucky days, I get to catch flights, too. But mostly I hope we all catch a little bit of a reminder of the ways we are found and why we need each other. I hope we remember the feeling of everyone else singing along, of feeling less alone, even in our gentle sadnesses. There’s a beauty in those things, too, and maybe the beauty is found in not having to feel it alone, you know?
So here’s your last reminder: You belong here. You belong in the rooms you step into and you don’t have to earn that belonging. You are enough and you are not too much, no matter what feelings you carry today. There will always be songs for the feelings and rooms to dance in to those songs and there will always be someone else who feels the same way, I promise. We are all less alone than we feel and the way that 250 people realized that together on a Tuesday night: thank you for letting me photograph that feeling.
P.S. if you’re reading this and are like, “oh, hey, that’s a photo of me!” email me at estorie@outlook.com and I’ll send you your fan photo. We love to see it!
concrete todays /
A month ago today, on a long walk to the Brooklyn flea, I stumbled across the patch of sidewalk pictured in the second photo—and I started writing on my phone while walking. Somehow, suddenly it seemed, it was after 2pm and I was hungry, so I stopped, bought lunch, and kept writing, this time editing in my journal as I went. I’m a queen of first draft dumps and I enjoy editing less, but the time I took to wrestle with these words, well, it cemented the feeling.
All these photos are from that weekend (mostly from that walk) and these are the words I found inside me, this is the poem that found me:
I want a carve-it-in-the-sidewalk kind of love
Permanent and temporary
Concrete as long as we stay right here on 5th
Forever as long as we’re both in it
It’s pausing by the only ground that won’t hold us
(Is the uncertainty temporary or are we meant to last beyond this moment?
Will the unsteady solidify into trust?)
So with a stick like a wand, we turn that quicksand pavement
Into something that will remember us
It’s dropping my hand just to write my name
I know we don’t know next week or forever
But we’ve cemented today
Maybe sidewalks cradle more than hands dropped and words etched
Maybe every memory is a little like that
Permanent only where we carve them
Uncertain in the end
And a passerby cannot see a twist or bend
To that pavement passerby: you’re forever from where they stand
So sidewalks, photos, hands held on the train:
You’re only seeing a window
Never knowing what will last, what will fade
All we have are our concrete todays
Las Vegas /
Blurry and Significant: and I wouldn't mind remembering this. /
Before reading these words, I’d recommend pouring yourself a cup of black coffee and pairing it with an avocado grilled cheese. Crack open your windows for the first chilly whisper of spring—and now you’re ready for this feeling.
This is a combination of stories I wrote about feelings I had about adventures we took in 2016 and 2017
We listened to Bleachers as we drove south on the Interstate and I'm listening to them again driving south to the boot store.
It's too windy to drive with the windows down but I'm doing it anyways. It smells bad, too, but I probably won't remember that.
I'll just remember how it feels.
The song builds. And I begin to sing along. The wind takes my voice and throws it into the ocean of the sky and I shout louder and louder, until my stomach hurts but it feels good. It feels like jumping face first into the ocean, painful, but it wakes you up. You can't fall into the ocean and forget you're alive. The ocean may kill you but the whole while you're very much aware of your life.
The first time I listened to Bleachers was the first time I visited Katie in Colorado. It was the same time we drank tea in a small town and the same time her car broke down and we sat on a blanket by some train tracks and the same time I wasted two rolls of black-and-white film because I didn't load them right. I've learned since then.
But even though my film was lost, my memories are vivid.
The openness of Colorado swam around us, encased by mountains like a living snow globe and (pre-breakdown) we drove in Katie's car and we were alive.
My other memory tied to these melodies was the first time I visited Kansas City. It was September and my car nearly didn't start the next morning and I was full of coffee and late to work as a result, but I played Bleachers on repeat on the sepia September morning drive. Gloomy and grateful and praying I'd make it home.
I'm still learning how to pray. I'm still learning how to make it. I'm still driving.
That album is still playing. Faster now.
And now it smells like cut grass and the same song is playing
and I wouldn't mind remembering this.
Bleachers has written the songs of my in-between. The songs of the road between there and home. The songs between grief and healing, between hope and something a little more tangible. They're honest and of most people and most art, that's all I can ask.
Bleachers introduced a new song on a Sunday night, saying it's about the clarity in the moment between dreaming and awake.
Maybe all their songs are that clarity in the in-between. The words I sometimes need, for drives, for grief, for the in-between.
We're getting better. We're nearly home.
We’re chasing light in every way, bodies canvases of where we've been, maps to where we're going, dust churning up behind us, and we are on our way. I still don’t know where I’m going, but I'm growing into the belief that the intersection between the unknown and being known is the most human and alive place to dwell and
in that golden hurricane of dying light tonight, we were the most alive.
Author’s Note:
In the initial post about this collection, I mentioned an intention to share this piece on the 16th. As an afterward, I’ll offer you a bit of the story of why that didn’t happen and why that’s okay.
When I said that I intended to release this piece on the 16th, I did. I had everything written and edited and re-edited and condensed into the shortened format that Open Sea allows, but also into a longer format for this post, so you can read the whole story. I had an image chosen. My friend Trish helped me get my Open Sea account all ready to go. I was set. It was perfect.
Then my collection wouldn’t upload. I clicked the button and a cute teal cousin of the circle of doom popped up and asked me to wait patiently—then disappeared and nothing happened.
But that was alright, I told myself. While the photo was taken in 2016, some of the words were written in 2017, so posting on the 17th still felt poetic. The morning of the 17th, I took down every possible extension that could’ve caused an issue and it worked! My collection was up. Now the pieces themselves weren’t for sale yet, but that seemed like the easy part. After my first tattoo in 492 days, I sat down again to list them, carefully following the instructions and everything looked like it was working.
Then my little Metamask fox popped up, telling me with cheerful aggression that I was $57 shy of the amount of the gas fees (essentially the cost to list them, if you’re unfamiliar with that terminology and don’t feel like googling it). That’s unfortunate, but not insurmountable. I added the extra funds and refreshed the page so I could list my piece. But in the 5 minutes it took me to add the extra money, the gas fees had jumped to over $400. I refreshed again. $426. I refreshed again. $440. The cost kept climbing.
My dentist appointment is on Tuesday and the estimate they gave me was similar; if we are being frank, I cannot spend that amount twice in 4 days. Do I choose my teeth or my art—or wait, and forfeit the date I’d chosen?
By that time, it was 10:52pm. In that moment, I realized my plan of releasing the image and words I’d created in 2016 and 2017 on the 16th or 17th wasn’t going to happen. (I really do need to go to the dentist.) And I don’t want to wait another month for May 16th or 17th, since I have other projects I’d like to release in the interim. So here we are on the 18th. And the 18th means nothing to my project. The number has no significance or poetry or any deeper meaning.
But maybe that’s the whole point. Maybe the whole point of this whole collection is finding grace for the in-between and beauty in the middle and memory in the places we expected to gloss by unannounced and unremembered. Maybe it’s about letting go of what we thought we should be so we can find new songs on backroads and meet people we didn’t know we needed—even if it’s just a future version of ourselves.
So here I am, on a day that feels more bleary than blurry and far less than significant, still learning to lean in to the same words I wrote 5 years ago—which is strangely parallel to something I wrote in 2016:
“I feel like I'm still writing about the same things. The things I wrote about two years ago. The skin I'm still settling into. The words I'm still learning. Being known. Understood. There aren't often places I find where I can dwell both in the honest struggle and the chase of beauty. But maybe it's not about the places where you run but it's the people you run wild with.”
I wrote those words about an adventure with Katie—who is pictured in this piece—and our friend Hannah, but today it’s about you, too. Thank you for reading, for listening, for offering understanding to me by way of your readership. I hope my words leave you feeling seen, too. At the end of the day, all blurry and bleary with some hopeful crescendo of significance, that is the best thing I can do.
Blurry and Significant: an NFT Collection /
Over the past 11 years, I’ve created thousands of images that combine motion and emotion within the music industry. However, I also have a collection of photos that were taken while chasing the last bit of light or chasing the elusive commodity of human connection, while existing on the road or in the in-between.
This series is entitled: Blurry and Significant.
You can see the whole collection here.
The first piece is this collection is called: and I wouldn’t mind remembering this.
You can read its story here and purchase it here. I hope it makes you feel something.
While planning this collection, I also revisited pieces I wrote on the days that I took the images. One such photograph was taken on a November evening that began with a melted chocolate chip cookie and my third cup of coffee and ended with running through downtown and into two friends and running together through parking garages and side streetsuntil we ran out of light. (That’s the only sort of running I like.) Later that night I wrote these words:
“On my drive home tonight I turned the heat on to keep my fingers from growing too numb to grip the wheel and rolled down the windows and put the Bleachers album on. I could feel a giant smirky derpy grin creep across my face, the sort that isn't particularly attractive or winsome, but the kind you get when you're swinging or you spot an old friend in a new city or you magically get your mug of coffee for free. Genuine unhindered happiness. My gas light came on--is on--is probably empty. But I feel so full. It's strange and wonderful how I feel fullest when I hold my days and my life with open hands. This is today, tonight, all blurry and significant.”
In the five years since, I have not been able to shake that phrase and how the best parts of life feel like that. It’s the weighty, momentary in-between.
It’s the exit you didn’t plan on taking with the friend you didn’t plan on meeting that leads to the small town gas-station-turned-thrift-store where you find a tiny mug from Wales and wonder how it arrived there. It’s running through the rain in Indiana when you’re 15 and 14 years later still remembering how it felt. It’s finding out your best friend is in love with you and knowing you have everything to lose no matter what your reply. It’s walking off the plane in New York and wearing the same clothes for three days because you only brought a backpack. It’s that same day and dancing behind the sound booth with her, screaming lyrics about sleeping in clothes and lavender lips. It’s laying on the cement floor in the back of a crowded arena so the phone lights look like stars. It’s seeing a man across the room and then walking into his cafe in a different city the next day. It’s Monday nights laughing on your best friend’s rug with that third glass of wine, watching the show you all like even though you hate it. And it’s spending all night awake in Chicago after locking yourself out of the apartment, but it’s the sunrise on the beach that made the rest of the tired day worth it. It’s writing these words while sitting under a garland of lights on a neighborhood patio, hearing the murmur of strangers’ voices again and feeling hopeful at the white noise of possibility. It’s not always a clear memory, but it’s a vivid feeling.
Those moments, the most important moments when you look back, they aren’t the crispest ones: they feel blurry and significant.
Each of these images represents a day that felt blurry and significant. My hope is that my words and images connect you to parallel feelings you’ve experienced in your own life. You may not have run into the ocean with your clothes on after watching Toy Story and drinking champagne on the beach with a friend you met on Twitter (or maybe you have), but I hope to connect with you from a place where you felt that same way. Though we all hold varying experiences, we also all hold synonymous emotions. Beyond just connecting with your emotions, I hope my words and my work make you feel seen. Less alone. More alive, if only in this small way.
Each image is titled with a word, phrase, or portion of poetry that was written during the same period of time or represents that time in my life.
Because this collection is a reflection on meaning and nostalgia, it’s appropriate that all of the images are from prior years and that their release dates and pricing are connected to those years. For example, the first image and words were taken and written across 2016 and 2017. So I intended to release it on the 16th (more on that on the post about the piece itself—see the link at the top of this page). There will be only 3 copies of each piece. I believe in pricing my work according to its value, but also creating spaces for friends to purchase it, so each copy is priced differently. One of the images will be priced at 1.6ETH—which reflects my piece’s value—one will be at 0.16, and one will be at 0.016. Even with the two pieces at initially lower price points, the exclusivity in only have 3 editions allows for the retention of value. Additionally 16% of the profits of this series will reinvested back into small businesses and the art community.
As I want this to be a fully immersive nostalgic experience, I have a small additional gift for each collector. Many of these photos were taken as I traveled across the continental United States. Instead of collecting physical souvenirs from the cities I visited, I began stopping at local coffee shops and bringing home pounds of coffee. With each purchase, I will be sending you a bag of coffee from the shop I associate with the memory of the photo. This gift only available to the first collectors of each copy.
Fearless /
On Thursday:
“And it's a sad picture, the final blow hits you.
Somebody else gets what you wanted again and…”
“…You know it's all the same, another time and place,
Repeating history and you're getting sick of it.”
Nothing went the way I planned today.
I mean I’d made a plan. Granted, it was only yesterday when I decided that I’d thrift a dress, buy the Rare Beauty lip soufflé in “Fearless,” dance, and take photos outside in the rain—because, yes, in a beautiful twist of fate, it was supposed to rain today.
Then everyone I invited couldn’t come. My leg pain was flaring up (anyone else have meralgia paresthetica?). I was tired from sitting at a desk all day. I was lonely. In this pandemic year, in this city where I have literally 5 friends, it was yet another night alone. I almost didn’t show up for my own Fearless (Taylor’s Version) release party.
“But I believe in whatever you do,
And I'll do anything to see it through.”
But ever since college, I have learned to do the things I want to do, even if nobody else wants to do them. It began with exploring new neighborhoods and coffee shops when everyone I knew would rather stay on campus. It turned into going to hardcore shows when no one else enjoyed the head banging and the circle pit vibes. Then I began shooting shows out of state, alone. I grew to enjoy my own company—and I still do—but the pandemic has brought out my gaping additional need for community. However, that wasn’t an option tonight, so I reminded myself of the ways I’d found joy alone and how I could do it again.
“Because these things will change—
Can you feel it now?”
So I put on the dress. I put on the lipstick (and gold eyeshadow, because what would 2008 Taylor do?). I packed up my camera and my tripod. And I drove to an empty parking lot and then to an empty street corner and I walked and I twirled and I took photos as cars drove by and their drivers stared at me.
When I paused to look through the images, I could see the loneliness on my face. I didn’t want that expression. I wanted to have this headfirst, lovestruck, fearless look on my face, but I’m not an actor and my face doesn’t lie. I wear my emotions vividly and while that’s not a weakness, in that moment I wished I could fake it a little better.
“These walls that they put up to hold us back will fall down.
It's a revolution, the time will come
For us to finally win.”
But as I walked and as I danced, I started to feel a little better. You can see it in my face again. (With the exception of the first image, which I put at the top because I like it, the rest of the images shared chronologically, so you can see this progression of emotion, too.)
One foot in front of the other. Ignoring the cars. Ignoring the rain. Looking only at the sky and the light on the pavement. Feeling the water on my face and the denim over my arms. Moving to an invisible song. It’s how we dance, but also how we get through hard days. Maybe that’s why I subconsciously love dancing and consciously dance on hard days, just to get through.
“And we'll sing hallelujah.”
I realized on my drive home that maybe tonight, in all its loneliness and longing, was more perfect for Fearless (Taylor’s Version) than if it had been full and idyllic. “The Best Day” talks about Taylor’s mom being her only friend. “You Belong with Me” is about unrequited young love. In “Superstar” she pines over an unattainable “superstar.” “Forever and Always” is the perfectly angry anthem about the boy who said forever, but at the end of the day, he couldn’t follow through. “Love Story” is a hopeful manifestation of a fairy tale love that she hadn’t found yet. In “Breathe” Taylor finds her own lungs after holding someone else’s breath for so long that it felt like her own. Vault track “Mr. Perfectly Fine” is an angsty bop about the boy who seems skate unfazed through the breakup, while your heart is left with bloody knees. “You’re Not Sorry” is about learning that people will be who they are (as my therapist has reminded me when I’m disappointed). “Change” is a reminder that life will not always be this way.
And “Fearless,” the title track and a bright anomaly of the record, is a beautiful homage to a headfirst, reckless love in the present tense. But Fearless (Taylor’s Version)—the album—wouldn’t exist if it weren’t for all the loneliness and longing of the other 26 songs. There are only a handful of “happy” songs on the record, but the way Taylor magnifies each emotion with equal importance somehow gave me the space and permission to do the same.
What Taylor Swift has created with her music, with her words, with her genuine joy for her fans and candid embracing of her emotions is a space of belonging for those in the in-between. I have a theory that there are two ways to create community and create art, two ways to use social media: you can either make people wish they were you or you can make people feel like they are part of something. Somehow Taylor has created a space for being, for feeling, for belonging. Despite their specificity, you can find your own story mirrored in her lyrics and your own emotion echoed in her melodies. So I could show up, lonely and tired, in my best dress, and still dance to her songs and feel seen by her words.
On Friday:
While I listened to most of the album last night, it was nearing 2am and between the late hour and the glass of wine I’d finished, I knew I couldn’t give the vault tracks the attention they deserved. So I saved them for this morning. But then I was at work. And you only get a first listen once and I didn’t want it to be like this. I wanted the perfect moment.
And if I think back on it, that’s what I’ve always been chasing: perfect moments. I’ve jumped in the car and driven hours on an hour’s notice to photograph surprise events. I’ve danced in more parking lots than with people. I’ve bought clothes with stories. I’ve taken jobs that have left me basically broke because they’ve given me margin for adventure. I’ve thrown myself theme parties and thrown myself into love and thrown myself into the great perhaps of missed connections and I’m constantly throwing myself off cliffs of what-if’s and into wonderings and really all along what I’m looking for is a life that would make a good song or a good story at the end of the day. At the end of the day, I’m terrified of monotony. I just want to live something beautiful.
I don’t think I’ll ever stop chasing all of it: sunrises, first kisses, songs that feel like dancing, new cities, the feeling of being alone and full in a crowded room. But what I’m learning is it doesn’t have to be “perfect” to be meaningful, to be song-worthy, to be a good story. In fact, some of the most beautiful, emotional, meaningful songs have come out of pain. (Can you say “All Too Well?”) It’s easy to dismiss loneliness and heartbreak as lesser because they don’t feel “good” or “fun,” and while I won’t contrive pain just to feel it, I’m learning that feelings are just feelings; they’re information about the world and how I’m processing it. They’ll pass, both the savory ones and the hard ones. But maybe if I lean in, if I listen, if I dance, I might create art out of them before they fade.
And maybe finding beauty and creating art through longing and loss is the most fearless thing of all.
And, yes, I did pick my favourite 13 images to include because, again—what would Taylor do?