The Dive Motel on Film

While I’d been hoping to visit Nashville for about 4 years, my recent trip was planned in only 2 weeks, and my plans shifted pretty dramatically less than 24 hours prior to departure.

When I’m traveling, I tend to chase newness and emotion and change and adventure and I’ll probably write more on that later, but all you need to know now is that I usually choose to drive. This trip was no exception, which I realized was risky in February. However, it was also cheaper, and when you choose to drive, you also choose to pull over for sunsets and antique stores in old gas stations and the world’s biggest paintings and eggs. The intersection of slowness and spontaneity changes me in a way that flying doesn’t quite reach.

But in a twist of fate, as plots tend to do, the day before I was to leave, a storm warning was released—with ice—directly along my route. I will drive through many less-than-ideal conditions (I’m Midwestern, after all), but icy roads tend to be where I draw the line. I don’t need to spend the night in an ditch somewhere in Missouri.

Originally, I was supposed to begin driving home on Friday evening to get a few hours under my belt and lessen the load of Saturday’s drive. But now that I was flying, I could leave on Saturday instead. However, I didn’t have a hotel for Friday night and most of the places that had bed-bug-free reviews were booked or expensive. And most of the good (read: clean and safe) and affordable Airbnb’s were booked.

So I was feeling at a loss for options. Maybe it was my destiny to stay at an overpriced Tennessee Holiday Inn or Best Western. At least it would have free breakfast.

Somehow in the midst of my desperate googling for options, I recalled Urban Cowboy B&B, which was far beyond my budget, but in their Instagram bio was a link to a different place: the Dive Motel. I clicked on it, curious, and was swept away by the bright colors and 70’s themes—and the disco balls in every room. It was definitely too cool to fit into my price range, right? WRONG. And Expedia had an even better deal.

So on Friday night, I found myself at the Dive Motel. Being that it was one day it snowed in Tennessee, it was too chilly to enjoy the pool, but the bar had tea, so I cozied up in a booth for a bit, drinking Earl Gray and reading. And, yes, my room had a disco ball and different music stations. And, yes, I definitely danced in my room. You don’t have to wait to have a date or have a reason or have a big budget to fully savor the world and step into new places. You don’t need a plan free of mess to have an adventure full of magic. You don’t need a reason to dance. You are here, the disco ball is on: for tonight, that’s enough.

Bernie Sanders Rally with Bon Iver

Mississippi Jake

Lissie

Michael Moore

Jane Sanders

Rep. Pramila Jayapal, Rep. Ilhan Omar, & Rep. Rashida Tlaib

Bon Iver

Drake University Trump Rally and Protests

There was a national spectacle (I mean, a Trump rally and a protest of the rally) within walking distance, and while you might not think of me as a political photographer, both music and political photography involve capturing real movement and emotion and events, so I didn’t feel out of my element (at least creatively—the event itself was not my element). I got shots of the rally crowd, but also the protesters. I hope these images make you feel something, but more than that, I hope they make you think. I hope you believe your voice and your camera and your words and your vote mean something—because they do.

Also, these images are not chronological, but were shot over the course of an hour.

While the protestors stood at the top of a snow bank, protesters of the protesters came and unveiled a Trump banner and waved political signs.

At the bottom of the hill and on the sidewalk areas stood a mix of supporters, protesters, and journalists.

Lady Gaga : Disposable Camera

This was the genuine feeling: what is my life?! How am I even here?! I was overnighted super close floor seats to Lady Gaga’s performance at Wrigley field in Chicago in August of 2017. It felt magical and surreal and I felt like a queen—second only to THE queen Lady Gaga. Thank you so much, Chris and Interscope, for treating me so well. I was a sparkly Cinderella for a night, dancing my booty off to pop bops.

Since I wasn’t formally shooting, I didn’t bring my “real” camera, but I definitely brought a disposable, primarily to document the fans and fashion of the evening. It didn’t disappoint.

This was one of the two photographers who asked for my photo; I told him he could have it if I could have his.

My friend Matt came in clutch and showed up last-minute to hang out!

“Can I take your photo?” “Yes!—if you’re in it, too!” “Deal!”

Before the show, a couple photographers asked to shoot my outfit which, especially in Chicago, especially at a Lady Gaga show, feels like a huge compliment (because it is). One of the photographers was from a newspaper and the other was from WWD. This will show my naivety, but I figured it was like a local music or fashion publication or blog. Once I posted about it, one of my friends told me that actually it’s a pretty big deal. I had no ideal. I was just living my life in my $20 thrifted outfit in a gifted seat and somehow I ended up here, on WWD’s site. Anyways, I said it before and I’ll say it again: I don’t deserve any of this and I’m incredibly grateful to set foot in these spaces. Who would’ve thought this is where I’d end up? Not me. For sure, not me.

Anna

November 22, 2016 in Kansas City

Climate Strike in Des Moines

“This is our future.”

“There is no Planet B.”

Last minute, I was able to attend the Climate Strike on September 20th. I didn’t have a sign or a shirt or anything fancy: I simply had my self and my camera, to show up, to add to the numbers, and to bear witness through my film. Upon arrive, I got choked up at the amount of teens there. Everyone from punk kids to VSCO girls. When I was their age, I didn’t think climate change was a big deal and honest, I was probably too self-absorbed (and privileged) to care about anything that policitcal. To hear teenagers speak articulately in front of such a large crowd gives me hope that, despite all of this, empathy still exists and maybe things like climate change and the mental health crisis don’t have to keep getting worse. Maybe it can get better. Maybe it will.

“Climate change is a global emergency.”

I’m nowhere near competent on this issues and I’m nowhere near living a fully sustainable life, but I hope that I will keep learning and growing and maybe that's just it: maybe if we do that, it can get better—and will.

“Things to do: feed the cat, eat breakfast, save the world!”

“Learn to change or learn to swim.”

“Live from Area 51. Be green, earthlings. Climate change impacts everything.”

There was a Greta Thunberg quote on this poster (but it’s hard to read here).

“Demand climate justice from the fossil fuel industries.”

“You know it’s bad when an old straight white guy is marching.”

KC with the Boys

Blake and I have come a long way since our first roadtrip last summer. I mean, literally. We've driven lots of miles in my little car. So far, we've successfully roadtripped every season, but this was our first adventure in Kansas City. We drove up early for the Japanese House show at Riot Room and spent the day eating food and drinking coffee and taking photos with Charlie. There are a ton of photos: this is your warning. But they're all of coffee or donuts or Charlie or Blake, so you really can't complain about that.

This first photo is of Joe's, where we had stellar BBQ. From there, we ventured to West Bottoms to get coffee at Blip.

You know you've got good friends when they humour you for a photo like this. I hope I never grow up and always take silly photos and always dance in parking lots and always adventure and always laugh.

No trip to KC is complete without a stop at Doughnut Lounge.

Nearly the entire day was cloudy, but the sun ventured out for just long enough for a few photos with harsh shadows.

When you hold your camera above your head to take photos, sometimes you get some happy accidents.

Charlie took us to a part of town with cute little antique stores and it far too closely resembled the 1975's newest album art for us to pass by without a photo or two.

I'm grateful for these two human. One of the best Tuesdays of the year so far.

A Day Without Immigrants

"He saw the need and he did something about it. He didn't just say he was for me or with me. He was actually with me...
Faith isn't about knowing all the right stuff or obey all the rules... it involves being present and making a sacrifice."
- Bob Goff

"I want to use my camera as a microphone." Jeremy Cowart said that and I haven't been able to forget it.
My camera is a gift. My sight is a gift. My words are a gift. The fact that anyone listens to me is a gift. Another word you could use is privilege.

So this morning I went and sat and stood on the capital steps. I sat on the curb next to a girl in a hijab. I was surrounded by the chant: "Si se puede!" And I cried. I feel selfish writing that. This day isn't about me. And I wasn't crying for me. I was crying because 3000 people (and counting) feel unsafe and unwanted in their workplaces and homes.

It's a privilege that I can work part time and spend my morning outside with a camera. These men and women didn't go to work so that they could be here. These teens skipped school. They risked a lot more than I did to show up this morning. The least I can do is bring my camera: my microphone.

I shot digital until my camera died, then film until I ran out of it. Then I felt useless. But you know what? Sometimes it's just important to show up and sit with people. Sit with people who are different than you. Cry with them. Listen to them. Use your gifts and your privilege as a microphone.

To the men and women I stood beside today: I'm sorry. You are worthy. You are important. You belong.

This little gal was my step-sitting buddy.

I initially approached this area of the capital steps because of the lady with the green sign. She was enthusiastically leading cries and chants (I don't know what the word is for an impassioned but peaceful rallying cry). Then I saw the woman next to her. Those two women, standing, next to each other for the same reason. Unlikely comrades. In a pause, I asked them for a portrait. Beautiful. Strangers. Smiling. Side by side. Loving each other. Peacefully protesting together. love is present. Love does.

The man with the pink sign was so enthusiastic, grinning and leading cheers and chants.

Ledges

Latte Throwdown

To set the scene. Des Moines hosted its first latte throwdown, and I was honored to be the "professional customer" judge. Basically, it involved choosing between two cappuccinos at at time (like going to the eye doctor) while seated between two judges who knew a lot more than I do. The entire cafe was packed and it was quite fun.

Over the past 2 years in particular, I've been invited into rooms I don't deserve to be in. 
Sometimes that room looks like a stadium and I'm holding a camera. 

Sometimes that room looks like the bedroom floor of a new friend and I'm listening and eating something like pad Thai or pizza.

Sometimes that room looks like a car at night with the music way too loud or not at all and I'm alive, I'm alive. 

And sometimes that room looks like the bar of a coffee shop I've visited more times than I can count. Beside folks who know incalculably more about coffee than I do. Judging a latte art competition together. I have no business being here, really. But here I am. Invited.

What fun. What an honor. Undeserved. 

Every time I'm let into a room, into a stadium, or a home, or a business, or a life, or a soul: every time that is an honor. In a way, it feels like a sacred space. But only sometimes do I remember that and take the time to be blown away with gratefulness. 

I never want to take this life for granted. God, let me always be awestruck, wonderstruck at these opportunities. Big moments or small, I want to forever marvel over this life.

Enjoy the rest of these photos from the evening.