In early December, my mother called. Her foot surgery would be far more intense than we expected.
I got very excited when I heard about the Women’s March in Washington. I wanted to be part of something historic. I needed community.
In many ways, poetry saved, redirected, gave new form to my best friend’s life. Now he’s releasing his first full-length collection of them, and I couldn’t be prouder.
I got to shoot two thrash bands this week. Never having seen these guys before, it was a kind of coming home.
Today was a nationwide #NoDAPL protest. It was an honor to join the First Nations people who have led this fight for years now. For them to accept us—to accept me—as an ally in their fight, which is our fight, was profound.
There were Trump protests in Albuquerque last night. After spending the day on my couch, flailing for freelance work to do, and trying to make any noise in my head, I heard about a vigil.
I first attended the Individual World Poetry Slam (shortened to iWPS) in 2005. This is my 11th Poetry Slam Incorporated event. My fourth with camera.
Growing up, I longed for summer. For the ways summer transformed and freed me to do whatever, wherever. This summer I took that license as far as I ever have.
I knew about the National Poetry Slam within a few weeks of learning about the poetry slam. Now I cover it annually.
The Corner Thieves play what they call “trashgrass,” a saltier, dirtier, bluer-than-bluegrass mountain music. But when you see them, that’s obvious.
I love faces. I love composition. I love stories. I’ve been thinking about how to present that.
Reviva is one of those bands that exudes respect. At a Reviva show, the stage just glows.