like a child blind, unborn
whose dreams caress you deep inside
are my dreams worth the ride?
Francesca Lia Block (via primaverapersephone)
Hello again. Thank you for joining us today. We have spent a lot of this week talking about the industry and how bands can better there efforts, but before we head into the weekend there is one additional industry profile that we wish to share. If you’re into photography, this post is for you.
This blog exists to promote the future of the music industry, and to do that we need input from people like you and your music-loving friends. If you have any questions about the content in this article, or if you have an artist you would like to see featured on this blog, please contact firstname.lastname@example.org and share your thoughts. We can also be found on Twitter and Facebook.
It’s not every day that someone writes us with a request that we consider their work in regards to planning our future content, but I have to be honest and tell you those are the email I open as fast as I possibly can. Why? Because it takes a special breed of person to speak out and let the world know they are doing whatever it takes to chase their dreams. Some people who do this may come across as egotistical at times, sure, but from my experience the people in the industry who are most vocal about their efforts have the results needed to back up their statements more often than not. This is a business that demands individuals take their career into their own hands if they ever hope to get ahead, and today we are thrilled to introduce you to one young woman who is doing just that.
Allison Newbold, otherwise known as Ally, has been building her reputation as a music photographer with an eye unlike any other since 2008. She knew she had a passion for photography from a very young age, and she realized early in her teen years that in order to make her hobby anything that could one day resemble a career she would have to do whatever she could to position herself for success. She shot every show she could attend, honing her skills and networking with groups of all sizes along the way, but things did not really begin to take off until Ally moved to Philadelphia in 2012.
I never knew Ally’s name prior to working on this feature, but as soon as I began to scroll through her photography I realized I had been enjoying her work for years. She has an eye for this medium like very few do, and considering how young she still is it’s very likely that talent will only continue to develop in the years to come. Even more important than that however, is the fact Ally has taken her career into her own hands, accepting responsibility for her successes and failures as they come. It’s something I wish every young industry professional could do, and my hope is that learning Ally’s story will encourage others to take it upon themselves to make positive changes in their own lives.
If you would like to see Ally’s work and learn more about her life in music, click here to visit her official website. Additional questions and comments can be left at the end of this post.
People pray to each other. The way I say “you” to someone else,
respectfully, intimately, desperately. The way someone says
“you” to me, hopefully, expectantly, intensely …
You who I don’t know I don’t know how to talk to you
—What is it like for you there?
Here … well, wanting solitude; and talk; friendship—
The uses of solitude. To imagine; to hear.
Learning braille. To imagine other solitudes.
But they will not be mine;
to wait, in the quiet; not to scatter the voices—
What are you afraid of?
What will happen. All this leaving. And meetings, yes. But death.
What happens when you die?
“… not scatter the voices,”
Drown out. Not make a house, out of my own words. To be quiet in
another throat; other eyes; listen for what it is like there. What
word. What silence. Allowing. Uncertain: to drift, in the
restlessness … Repose. To run like water—
What is it like there, right now?
Listen: the crowding of the street; the room. Everyone hunches in
against the crowding; holding their breath: against dread.
What do you dread?
What happens when you die?
What do you dread, in this room, now?
Not listening. Now. Not watching. Safe inside my own skin.
To die, not having listened. Not having asked … To have scattered
Yes I know: the thread you have to keep finding, over again, to
follow it back to life; I know. Impossible, sometimes.