let’s take a moment to clear the cache…

…before full-frontal Bumbershoot madness ensues. I had a blast of a photo-date tonight with Nate, my dad’s AE-1 Program is in the mix (yes, FILM! omg.) and we start setting up at Fischer tomorrow. And Amanda’s going to be here any second. So, without further ado:

Seattle Tattoo Expo totally killed. Thursday…

And Friday…

And Saturday…

And Sunday.

And No Depression happened.

Gah.

And the Head and the Heart put on a killer set at the Mural. (Shortly thereafter, they blew the roof right off the Tractor. And then got booked to open the two Vampire Weekend makeup shows at the Paramount. And we all clapped and sang along at the top of our lungs, forever and ever, amen.)

And I got to shoot Jenn Ghetto (as S) at KEXP.

And so there’s so many more words. There’s imaginary podcasts and the stuff about learning how to load film into the camera, and how the Seattle Show Posters ad ran in print this week and how I brought six copies home like it’s Rolling Stone or something. (Or like how it would have been if it was how Rolling Stone used to be. You know what I mean.) And how Chris Pureka and Andrea Alseri are in town, and how you can feel summer fading, and how much fun Greg Vandy is, and how I’m growing my hair back a little longer again, and how the vegan thing is going.

But it’ll all have to wait ’til the weather changes. I’ll have plenty left to say then, I’m sure.

See you sometime after the 15th. Really.

xo
V.

the most fun a girl can have… with her clothes on.

Yes, I’m serious.

Last Wednesday was an absolute blast, one of those nights that re-cemented exactly why I live here and why I love Seattle so very, very much. (You know, like I needed a reminder or something.) At the end of the night, it was simply some good people coming together to lend a hand for some like-minded folks — in this case, a PR shoot for our pals over at Seattle Show Posters and their upcoming ad campaign — with nothing but the promise of some free design work and the potential for some great photos.

All that love + a few of our favorite band members + good ideas + sunset = whoa.

It’s a pleasure and a privilege to have my name on something like this, and while I did put a considerable amount of work into the shoot, I can hardly take credit for the magic behind the shots themselves — only for managing to capture a fraction of it.

Huge, huge thank-yous and big kisses to John Roderick, Rachel Flotard, the Head and the Heart camp, the Imaginaries, Brent Amaker & Co., Kiku, and Killorn & Rick for asking me to participate. (And of course, big love to KEXP for letting us use their parking lot. The big blank space and magic-hour sunset light made for the perfect canvas.)

Keep an eye out for the ad — and all of us, be it visiting, working, or playing — at Bumbershoot on Labor Day Weekend. Love you / mean it. xo

be a do-bee, not a don’t bee.

August has been a lee-dle busy. Doing my best, and besting my ‘do.

It feels like forever ago already that Thao and the Avett Brothers played the Paramount. And killed it. Apparently so did my shots, or at least the people over at STG seemed to think so.

Ditto for the City Arts show with David Bazan and THEESatisfaction.

Ditto for Nathaniel Rateliff. Holy shit. Top five records of the year, for sure / for serious.

The Head and the Heart have played a bunch — most notably in August at the Columbia City Theater. It was beyond perfect for my inaugural visit to one of my new favorite venues.

And all that followed immediately by a raging T-Model Ford set — all my words and emo about it are up over on Greg Vandy’s blog here.

Also, Cotton Jones played a sweet set over at KEXP. Not only did I get to shoot for the station, but the photo went out in that week’s DJ newsletter too. Sweet!

Rush rush rush, words words words. There’s so much more to talk about, like the killer time we had at No Depression this past weekend, and more Head and the Heart shows this week, and prefunking Bumbershoot, and Bumbershoot, and prefunking MFNW, and MFNW. And how I’ll be in Vegas the same weekend the Frames are in the PNW. (I know, cry me a river.) And blogging / designing / editing for Greg Vandy, and the Roderick / Flotard Seattle Show Posters photoshoot, and how I’m fumbling my way through helping Teen Feed with booking a gig, and shooting Johnny Sangster‘s studio this week, and and and.

And it’ll all have to wait a few more days. Welcome to my IRL.

Kisses, everyone. Go get the sunshine while the gettin’s still good. xo

hi. I made art.

No, for serious, I mean. Like, rented a little space, enlisted some help, talked some brave friends into modeling, and did it. You know. I did the thing you do when you do the thing.

And it was absolutely awesome.

So, there’s a whole backstory to this shot, about getting a notice for an open call at Ouch My Eye at about the same time I saw Boys Don’t Cry, and realizing what I could do, and then this happening, and how this is one of the first times I saw something in my head and made it come out almost exactly how it looked before it actually existed. (Onesheet on that entire ish after the jump.) It was terrifying, and liberating, and fantastic, and it got into the show. A real art show, all custom-framed on the wall of a gallery — the first thing I Put Out There for people to see since arriving Seattle.

Seriously.

best week(s) ever, #2

{hello, moto.}

Once again, I’ve got one of those things happening — where there’s so much rad shit going on that I’m forgetting some of it. Coworkers ask how the weekend went and I have to file through my head for the details. Technically speaking, if it’s not in a flickr set, there’s potential for me to lose track of it. Ubiquitous “it”, whatever It is. You know, the Thing. The thing that’s Happening.

Because it’s totally All Happening.

So, here’s entry number two in my rad-is-the-new-awesome mapout. Because I have this habit of burning maps, and I don’t want to forget this stuff.

(Hey, ten years from now. How’s it going? Aren’t you glad I typed all of this out? You love the internets.)

everything is copy, even neil young.

So we went to shoot Neil Young at the Paramount last week.

Did I just say that sentence? Haha. Hi. I totally did.

Anyhow, we may or may not have interacted with some excellent folks who may or may not have walked us up to the third floor after we put our cameras away. To watch the last hour of the show. If, you know, it was okay for people to do that kind of thing at a show like that. Which it isn’t. So, theoretically, had all of that happened, and had I possibly been bleeding out my ears from all the amazingness that ensued, these are the notes I would have submitted to City Arts. Which, theoretically, would have wound up (in part) on their blog.

five and five

There’s all this metaphorical emo shit I want post about that I’ve been writing in my head for days. (I know, that’s not writing. That’s just thinking. And thinking about writing is like swimming about bicycles. I know, I know. Hush.)

I had this necklace, and… well, I’m a big believer in ridding yourself of / archiving artifacts as they pertain to painful situations. Whatever they are. You know, so that they’re not looking you in the face every day. Give your ex-girlfriend her clothes back. Use a different desk chair than the one you sat in at the job you hated every day, for months and months before you left. Burn the maps, if you will. So some things I archive. And some things I break. And some things I set on fire in the front yard.

And some things I throw out the window. Literally.

and a one, and a two…

Hi. I live here.

John Vanderslice at the Tractor.

The Head at the Heart at Sonic Boom.

The Presidents at Lake Union, 4th of July.

John Roderick at the Triple Door (part one).

The Head and the Heart at the Comet.

Pablo Trucker at the Tractor.

Romeo and Juliet at Woodland Park.

K, I should probably go sleep now.

PS, I’m holding out for a hero.

xo
Victoria

[it was all a dream]

Well, that’s what it felt like, at least. Especially the part where Tom Brosseau was here for a nanosecond. Funny enough, this is my favorite picture of the night:

There’s so much adjective to put forth about Tom and Angela’s project — they’re called Les Shelleys and they’re doing this great, powerful, stripped-away throwback americana-sounding stuff that will knock your socks off — and if I don’t do this quickie post, I’m afraid it will slip away in the tidal wave of new music that’s coming across my world lately.

So, here: they are awesome. Go see them play. Promise. And PS, they have this crazy tour EP with them that’s got a ridiculous cover of “My World is Empty Without You (Babe)” on it. You Must Purchase This. And yes, I am referring to a Supremes cover. FTW.

And they really were here (although I might have thought it was an actual dream, had I not taken the photos to prove it):

After that, we all lost our cookies at the Old 97′s show last week. Nothing I can type would come close to Keenan dropping the phrase ‘Rhett-o-sexual’ in her TIG post, so I’ll just let you let your fingers do the walking and you can go have a read for yourself. I hereby officially reserve the right to do more crushing / geeking as I see fit, though. Whenever I see fit to do it. Including possibly making “Dreamweaver”-themed coffee mugs for her and Liz for Christmas (yes, I’m serious).

Guh. Plenty where that came from, PS. Click on over here and geek to your heart’s content. It’s really one of those nights that will be lodged into my everything for forever, it feels like. Not that it was a life goal or what have you, but did I ever think I’d yell out “Victoria” to Rhett Miller at a soundcheck — and then have him play it? And then hug it out with after? Um, no. I can’t say I ever specifically put that on the proverbial list.

And before all that happened, we took a field trip to Ballard.

I like things that line up in rows without trying.

And so we shot the pants off the Sunset for our behind-the-scenes imaginary article series:

(I’d just like to make formal note here about how direct positive is my new BFF.)

That’s the catchup — there’s so much more this week and next, John Roderick, the Head and the Heart, Pablo Trucker, and imaginary DJ night at Solo with Damien Jurado — we’ll have all the details from the portable camp up in a jif.

File under: all of a sudden there’s too much sun to keep typing.

xo
Victoria

on being clean and being awesome

So I used to have this totally insane life. Wherein I would line things up in rows in my refridgerator, and rotate my clothing to ensure even wear, and I got my nails done all the time and when I was done sanitizing the house with a toothbrush, I would sit at the kitchen counter and clean all my jewelry off. And then I’d go shopping or whatever.

It sucked.

I thought of this just now because I looked down at my right hand and noticed that the little nondescript ring of my mom’s that I’m wearing was kind of dirty. And it made me happy that I hadn’t cleaned it. I can’t remember the last time I cleaned it, if ever at all.

This brings me indescribable amounts of joy. Not that being clean and being awesome are mutually exclusive. But you know what I mean.

People who knew me back then will attest to the awesomeness of me being a little bit unkempt around the edges, wearing clothes a few times too many before I wash them, the general disarray of my living space, and the conviction with which I’ve come to wear my tattoos (literal and proverbial). People who only know me now often think I’m talking about someone else when I describe the girl with the house and the mortgage job and the shiny car and the crazy and all the shopping.

So instead of compulsively cleaning and actively not-writing myself into a coma, I’m doing things like DJ (well, mp3-J, but still) night at Moe. And managing to talk my imaginary way into Music Fest NorthWest. And it appears as though I have helped pull together a rad benefit night at Solo, pretty much totally on the fly.

And that’s just like, in the last week or so.

Wait. What was my point? Oh, right: MY LIFE IS RAD. Totally insane, at that. Only now I mean it in the good way. And I’m not quite sure why I needed to take time out of my work day to tell the internets about all this. But speaking of, I have to get back to these spreadsheets… xoxo