Cityscapes and past lives.
So, I live in the woods. Yeah, I know; most Mainers can say they live in the woods and be telling the truth.
It’s important to note that I haven’t always lived in the woods, though. In fact, I spent the first 23 years of my life just an 84 minute train ride from Manhattan.
I got into technical theater and sound engineering in high school thanks to some of my fellow band kids, and it didn’t take much for me to start working at local hole-in-the-wall music venues in town.
When I decided to skip college due to the recession and its affects on my intended career path, I doubled down on sound engineering. The later part of my teens and my early twenties were spent sitting on trains, exploring different parts of the city by myself, and riding my skateboard around empty streets after hours. I ate dollar pizza slices and bagels that made your jaw tired, drank bulletproof coffee, and slowly started collecting tattoos, which I mostly successfully hid from my parents.
Sound engineering is the kind of job where getting work is all about who you know and who remembers your name when someone is hiring. I was a 5’1″ girl with a pixie haircut, a skateboard, formal technical training, a real knack for stage managing, and a set of very good ears. Most of my colleagues and competition were jaded, grumpy old guys who rubbed people the wrong way and couldn’t hear anything anymore, so I was pretty hard to forget. I got a lot of jobs and I worked all over Western CT, the Hudson Valley, and of course, NYC.
At the ripe old age of 22, I realized that I had become a grumpy old sound man myself and that it really wasn’t a good look for me. I quit sound engineering and pivoted to working in my dad’s welding shop (and learned that being a third generation scrap man wasn’t a good look for me either).
So while I may not live in or even near a city now, I still enjoy spending time in them. One of my favorite activities is to spend a day wandering around an city full of old buildings with a camera and no agenda.
I love looking at the buildings and watching how the light changes throughout the day. I want to move slowly and really take it all in, stopping often to notice the way bricks meet masonry and glass; the different decades and architectural styles intermingling next to, behind, and on top of each other; the way people interact with and move through a space, or don’t.
Getting to experience cities slowly like this brings me back to my oldest self in a way that feels like honoring my past while building something new, much like the way cities grow and change over time.
Cityscapes and past lives.
So, I live in the woods. Yeah, I know; most Mainers can say they live in the woods and be telling the truth.
It’s important to note that I haven’t always lived in the woods, though. In fact, I spent the first 23 years of my life just an 84 minute train ride from Manhattan.
I got into technical theater and sound engineering in high school thanks to some of my fellow band kids, and it didn’t take much for me to start working at local hole-in-the-wall music venues in town.
When I decided to skip college due to the recession and its affects on my intended career path, I doubled down on sound engineering. The later part of my teens and my early twenties were spent sitting on trains, exploring different parts of the city by myself, and riding my skateboard around empty streets after hours. I ate dollar pizza slices and bagels that made your jaw tired, drank bulletproof coffee, and slowly started collecting tattoos, which I mostly successfully hid from my parents.
Sound engineering is the kind of job where getting work is all about who you know and who remembers your name when someone is hiring. I was a 5’1″ girl with a pixie haircut, a skateboard, formal technical training, a real knack for stage managing, and a set of very good ears. Most of my colleagues and competition were jaded, grumpy old guys who rubbed people the wrong way and couldn’t hear anything anymore, so I was pretty hard to forget. I got a lot of jobs and I worked all over Western CT, the Hudson Valley, and of course, NYC.
At the ripe old age of 22, I realized that I had become a grumpy old sound man myself and that it really wasn’t a good look for me. I quit sound engineering and pivoted to working in my dad’s welding shop (and learned that being a third generation scrap man wasn’t a good look for me either).
So while I may not live in or even near a city now, I still enjoy spending time in them. One of my favorite activities is to spend a day wandering around an city full of old buildings with a camera and no agenda.
I love looking at the buildings and watching how the light changes throughout the day. I want to move slowly and really take it all in, stopping often to notice the way bricks meet masonry and glass; the different decades and architectural styles intermingling next to, behind, and on top of each other; the way people interact with and move through a space, or don’t.
Getting to experience cities slowly like this brings me back to my oldest self in a way that feels like honoring my past while building something new, much like the way cities grow and change over time.
