the joy formidable

divisidero
liz
vinyl
divisidero (bokeh edition)

It's weird to think I'm at an age where it's normal to have had a friend for more than a decade. Liz and I were probably 13 or so when we met-- and here we are now, almost ten years later, going to concerts in the city together. It's pretty cool.

Seeing The Joy Formidable on Monday was unlike many concerts I've been to in the past two years: We showed up early but we didn't stand in line-- we ate dinner (Chelsey and Norris know this is unusual for me). When the doors opened, we went to go get coffee. We missed the first act and when we arrived, I wasn't allowed to take a single photo with my camera.

At first it was a "kill me now" kind of feeling. Concert photography was the first kind of photography I'd ever been interested in. Capturing musical performance in photo-form is an indescribable feeling to me. And there I was, holding my camera but unable to take a single photo. (Some bouncer named Wayne took my battery and memory card from me.)

I suppose I should thank Wayne, though. This is one of the few concerts I've been (almost*) completely unplugged at. It's different seeing things with your eyes and not through a lens. It's weightless and in-the-moment.

And The Joy Formidable gave one hell of a performance.

the joy formidable

*almost unplugged except for these terrible Instagrams.