Thursday was a strange day. I met my friend Mullarkey at their apartment in St. Pete and we drove to Ybor City together to see our friends Penny and Joe play at the Bunker. I felt weird and soft and fuzzy all day so I decided to photograph everything that day and night to reflect how I felt. I used a plastic Diana+ Super Wide lens (although still way too narrow in my opinion) on my Canon DSLR, with a purple gel rubber-banded to the front.
When we arrived we spent a few minutes speaking to the roosters and hens that were hanging out across the street from the Bunker. Ybor City famously has many chickens roaming its streets.
Edie Roberts performed first. They did spoken word and their face and hands were very expressive and full of emotion, their voice broke a few times as if choked by tears, and what they read was very moving. It matched my mood and I lost myself in their words.
Penny played next. I feel like Penny probably always plays the way she is feeling. Maybe I'm wrong. It's just that it usually feels personal to me, and it feels like her personality. It feels genuine. Her set on Thursday had that strange mix of happy and sad which touched me because again, it matched my mood somehow. Was everyone just vibing with me or was I searching for a mirror within them? It was like seeing the face on Mars.
I don't know if that matters, really. It was still communication.
DJ Hollow Life/Joe Billingsley
played after Penny and was great and made me go inside my head for a while and one of the things he played was written during and about our last big hurricane and it was funny and I laughed but it also struck me deep inside because I remembered feeling the way
he was describing in this song.
was last and were amazing. I didn't want their set to end. It was funky and drummy and shouty and twitchy and I-don't-care-y. The Big Feelings it made caused me almost to cry, but everything that day was sort of making me cry or almost cry, like I was having every emotion at the same time like a tidal wave hitting me inside. It's good to cry sometimes. It's so good to experience peoples' expressions of themselves in words or in music when it is so sharp and right that it goes straight into your heart like a pin and stays there.
On April 14th I made lots of cookies for Antifest and ginger tea for Kat, who lives at Nullis Pretii where Antifest took place. On the way, I got caught in I-4 traffic (which was not surprising) and I was worried for a little while that I would be late for the first set, but I got there just before it began. I had just gotten a new fisheye lens attachment and hadn't played with it very much before bringing it with me to Lakeland. I realized quickly that I had put myself at a disadvantage, because I was not able to use any filters on that attachment.
Normally I shoot with a slow shutter and use an off-camera flash and filters to cut down on the light coming into the shot. I just like the way it looks. It makes a white room look less stark. Anyway it was difficult for me to get the right exposure in the rooms while it was still daylight, while still getting shots that weren't boring. I also realized almost immediately that I had forgotten to charge both the battery to my camera and the batteries for my flash, so it took a really long time for my flash to kick back on between shots. It was frustrating and I worried that I wouldn't get anything usable at all. I also worried that one or both of those items may just suddenly die.
I was not the only person experiencing technical difficulties that night, though. Vasectomy Party and Receptacle also had some bumps in the road but they got over them too. It reminded me that art is not always predictable.
Around halfway through the fest I began to have terrible anxiety and I struggled through a few sets before finally going outside. I spoke to my friends Emmy and Mullarkey about it and that helped me feel better. I felt the best after going back inside and petting this very small dog that someone had brought with him. I petted the dog for a really long time and the dog kept looking over at me as if to tell me that everything was going to be okay.
That night I met some really nice people, got some CDs, a tape, and a sticker from various people, and traded zines also. Meeting nice, creative weirdos is really my favorite part of going to noise shows. It really should be a community open to all, as long as we are all respectful of one another. I realized too late that I was talking to friends in the very beginning of two different peoples' sets and I felt so bad about it when it dawned on me. I wasn't trying to be rude, I just wasn't paying attention. Hopefully there were no hard feelings there.
It took me almost a week to look through all my photos from the night because I had a sort of vacation that started the next day and I was busy having adventures. When I did finally get through all of them I was pleasantly surprised. They weren't perfect and many of them were not exactly what I was hoping for, but they reminded me of a mostly terrific night (I say mostly because of the anxiety) and it makes me feel pretty good to see them. I hope you all like them, too.
2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons ground ginger
3/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground cloves
1 cup (2 sticks) butter, softened
3/4 cup granulated sugar
3/4 cup packed brown sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 large eggs
2 cups dark chocolate chips
Combine flour, baking soda, salt, ginger, cinnamon, and cloves in small bowl. Beat butter, granulated sugar, brown sugar, and vanilla extract in large mixer bowl until creamy. Add eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition. Gradually beat in flour mixture. Stir in chocolate chips. Drop by rounded tablespoon onto ungreased baking sheets.
Bake for 9 to 11 minutes or until golden brown. Cool on baking sheets for 2 minutes; remove to wire racks to cool completely.
Here is a link to all of my photos from that night:
On 4/09 I drove to my friend Mullarkey's adorable apartment in St. Pete where I observed a dog that we both agreed must be a tiny man wearing a dog costume. We then drove together to Ybor City where we were greeted by many roosters and chickens roaming freely by the roadside. We arrived at the Bunker very early and met Dylan and Kat there. I ate an amazing vegetarian sandwich and fun was had. The show was great, although the headliner was unable to show due to illness. I took many photos, some of which may be seen here, and the rest of which may be seen on Flickr.
Dylan Houser reported on the same show.
When I photograph performers who are minimalist in their actions, I like to focus on the details. Their hands, their gear, where they put their feet. Hal McGee has very expressive hands, and on many occasions I have photographed them while teasing a theremin or twiddling a knob.