the killing moon.
I've been dabbling in photography for what feels like a lifetime—ten years to be exact—experimenting with everything from street photography to real estate and boudoir shoots. While they all have their charm, nothing tickles my creative fancy quite like food, beverages, and the hospitality industry. There’s something uniquely satisfying about capturing the spirit of a restaurant, the finesse of a bartender, or the passion of a chef. But let's be real, it's been a ride, and lately, it seems I’m stuck in a bit of a pickle.
The competition in photography is more intense than a food critic at a five-star restaurant. Some photographers are like stealthy ninjas, lurking around, appropriating your ideas, and then slashing prices as if they’re in a clearance sale. And don't get me started on the so-called "deserving" crowd; they think opportunity is like a free buffet—everyone should get their plate first because, you know, “they breathe.”
On top of that, it’s easy to get sidetracked by the relentless scrolling through social media, a never-ending cycle of comparison. I like to call it the Crab Bucket Mentality—everyone is scrambling to claw their way out, but instead, we just end up pulling each other down like a poorly executed team-building exercise.
My vision has always extended beyond those superficial likes and follows. From the moment I laid my hands on the first issue of Lucky Peach Magazine, a light went on. I dream of a world filled with print spreads, magazine covers, and set days that blend exhaustion and exhilaration in equal measure.
So, I’ve decided enough is enough. I refuse to let the online noise dictate my journey. Instead, I'm turning my focus inward. I’m diving into my website, giving my blog and newsletters the love they deserve. I plan to silence notifications, check back weekly for any messages, and bask in the bliss of minimal distractions. My aim? To disconnect, recharge, and return stronger and inspired—like phoenix rising from the ashes of a pizza oven. If this isn’t a recipe for success, I don’t know what is.
