While in Denver I was asked by an amazingly beautiful yoga instructor doubling as the graphic designer for CorePower Yoga to shoot some product shots for their website and some promo materials in exchange for practice time in their studios. I gladly accepted [don't tell them, but I'd only had a camera in my hand for a couple of months and barely knew how to switch it off the auto setting :] and thus began my wild and passionate affair with CorePower. I might edit to add and substitute CorePower with just yoga… but life for me is about people. It’s about the energy and the relationships and the connections that we share and what sets CorePower apart from any other studio that I have ever practiced at is the people. So much beauty and love and kindness comes pouring out of every member of that family that you kind of can’t help but come out of each practice a changed person… if you’re open to it. Of course, all that being said, these classes totally kick my sorry ass and I leave drenched with sweat, panting, and infinitely stronger.

Our relationship continued to grow stronger and recently I traveled with them to Sayulita, Mexico on their Yoga and Surf Retreat. It was just immaculate - imagine no electricity, casitas that face out into the jungle and ocean beyond, a chef that personally prepares all your vegetarian meals three times a day, surf lessons, whale sightings, a private beach abutting a beautiful jungle, morning meditation, and all this bookended by a sunrise practice and a sunset practice. I know it was a pretty life altering experience for many of those that were on the trip and I felt truly blessed to be there. Below you’ll find the story from the week. For those of you that do practice I hope this might inspire you to practice even more frequently or maybe even get out of the studio and practice out in the world. For those who don’t maybe you’ll give it a shot. I had pretty much written it off as something ridiculous until I tried this ‘yoga for type-a’s’ at CorePower and fell head over heels abashedly in love.

For most of you it’s probably not art but just hear me out for a lil bit here. A few weeks ago I went in to A&J King Artisan Bakers to shoot a story. I didn’t know what the story was or what it should look like - basically I went in without any preconceived notions at all. I certainly didn’t expect it to be a story about art. At first I was thinking ‘Andy begins baking just past the witching hour, maybe I’ll shoot a story about the tireless efforts of a small bakery owner.’ Then I thought, ‘Maybe I’ll just shoot a series of portraits of Andy doing his thing.’ I had other ideas revolving around all sorts of different things but decided that instead of going in, looking for that story, and shooting it - I would just go and shoot and see what came out of it. I figured, if nothing else, we all can grow to at least have a little appreciation for where our handmade food comes from and what exactly goes into it. I started shooting at around 2:30am or so [I think... I was a little groggy] and wrapped at 10am. What ended up coming out was sort of this hybrid portrait story of Andy and his breads…

Cultures are often times defined by their food and just like cinema, theatre, music, and art it strengthens cultural identities and aids in the preservation of tradition and legacy. At the most basic of everything is bread. Every culture has their own bread and it tells a different story of history. What Andy, Jackie, and all the bakers at A&J King Artisan Bakers do is elevate their craft much more beyond providing sustenance. It’s an art form all to itself. He’s like a painter with his lamé. A conductor with his peel. Seeing a true artisan baker in action is something that I hope you will all someday get a chance to do.

In the meantime, stop by A&J King Artisan Bakers and treat yourself to a work of art. You’ll never buy bread from anywhere else again.

Click here for the full story.

They traveled from NYC, Nashville, Salt Lake City, and Portland, OR back to the site of their youth - Gloucester, MA and they commissioned me to come out and document a little bit of baby love…

Now why [and frankly how], I have become the naked people photographer I will never know, but I digress… Enjoy these cute Little bums!

Yesterday in between shooting rehearsals and opening night, I spent a lovely couple of hours with Gillian yet again. She’s just about to graduate from high school at Denver School of the Arts and then heading out to tackle the grandiose world of make believe. Much fun.

There is an unspoken yet widely acknowledged creed in the theatre. You are only as good as your technical staff. In a world of exultation of the individual, theatre remains one of the last true collaborative artforms. Running a theatre is like running a business only much more complex. Directors, set designers, stage managers, costume designers, wardrobe, dressers, wigs and hair, stage hands, sound designers, lighting designers, sound board op, light board op, producers, deans, acting coaches, voice and speech coaches, dialect coaches, production managers, movement coaches, and of course the performers… it’s a complex web of intricate workings and one cannot survive without the other. Think of it as spokes in a wheel. Each no more or less important than the other. At the hub of this wheel is the Technical Director.

It’s the final run through of The Laramie Project before it goes into Preview in the evening. Act one finishes as it normally does. Lights fade accompanied by a few sniffles in the audience, and a burst of applause. Without warning, what is affectionately known as the God mike crackles to life and heads turn as we hear, “I need all actors backstage left now, we need all your hands.” The voice belongs to Jeff Wilson, Tech Director and adviser for the Denver Center Department of Education and the Tramway Theatre [the DOE's private performance space.]

It has snowed over the night and all through the morning. Springtime in Denver often brings bursts of snowfall that piles up and melts quickly. It’s a heavy, wet snow - the kind you pray for as a child [or a 28 year old photographer], having hidden away a full length carrot, two pine cones [coal was not in large supply] and a small assortment of mismatched buttons. Today’s snow, however, is a little too much for the Tramway Theatre. During the first act, the roof has sprung a leak and water starts dripping into the wings. Had the theatre just been doing one show, things could have been moped up, a bucket placed under the drip, and problem solved. However, the theatre is now in REP, and the melted snow was dripping all over the freshly painted sets and props for Harvey.

Items are moved out of the way, but what started as a drip soon becomes a small leak and a then steadily flowing stream. A temporary fix of buckets, old costumes, and sponges allows the show to go on, as it always must, and Jeff Wilson, without flinching, starts to problem solve.

Theatre is too important to cancel. You perform at all costs. These stories need to be told.

here’s to all the unsung heroes of the Tramway.

Rehearsals for the REP begin in February. Students are performing with the Denver Center during the evenings while REP rehearsals occupy their mornings and afternoons. When the Denver Center shows close, REP rehearsals become all day in anticipation for their openings - mid April. REP is chosen taking into account the class’ strengths and weaknesses and is included as part of the Denver Center Subscribers’ season tickets.

Production photos will not be posted until the shows open, but what you will find below is some documentary from Tech and Dress week. Theatre for many is a magical event - figures from our imagination are brought to life, issues that hit close to home are worked through, we are taken on journeys to places beyond the furthest reaches of our daydreams, and we are asked to question the truths that they have formulated our lives on. From the actors perspective it is far from glamorous but immensely important and wildly fun.

The dying art of storytelling is alive and beautiful within these walls.

The room is an old one. Scuffed wooden floors are all that still remain from the bowling alley that the building once housed There is a wall of full length mirrors and a ballet bar - covered by a canvas curtain and random props and set pieces - a free standing door, a mismatched kitchen set, a wooden cube marking the spot for a bedside table. The harsh fluorescents leave a lot to the imagination - but this isn’t performance. It’s just stage combat class working on a scene from Sam Shepard’s True West. The parts have been cast non traditionally - two black women playing the roles of two white men. Geoff Kent, fight director for the Denver Center and highly sought after instructor teaches the students the art of the strangle.

There is an all too brief 5 minutes to grab a quick drink, use the bathroom and then head over to Hip Hop class. When the students emerge from the conservatory each one will be facile many different dance forms, ballet, period, and yes, hip hop. The instructor is Lawrence Curry who has been dancing all over the world and teaching at the NTC for many years. This is the class that the students get their first real taste of “no pain, no gain.” Extreme stretching is the polar opposite from what they learn from their daily movement instructor who preaches a more fluid and relaxed state of being. With all the pops, locks, and 6 steps that the students will be learning from Lawrence, developing and conditioning those muscles is imperative. Much of each class is devoted to working flexibility.

Lunch rolls around as does a much needed break from the physical morning. Students wander into the conference room and pull out the food they grabbed on their way out the door this morning. Despite the longing to head outside for some fresh air and break from the conservatory walls, all remain in the conference room. Spring in Denver brings snow all to often, and today is no exception. The hour comes and goes and with a few longing glances, they head out to Movement Rehearsal.

Every year the first year class is assigned a poet. The class of ‘10 was assigned Beckett. Taking the imagery and rhythms from the wordsmith, they are to create movement pieces under the guidance of Head of Movement, Bob Davidson. Many of the pieces involve low flying trapeze as well as Skinner Releasing - two distinguishing facets of the NTC. Hands and fingers are calloused beyond recognition, arms and legs are deeply bruised, and muscles ache in places the students never new existed. The process of creation is largely trial and error as the students can see the imagery they want to create, but are not far enough along in their training to actually realize it. Bob sits in on every rehearsal to help with modifying hangs and to ensure the safety of each piece.

Afternoon rehearsal, from 1-5 ends and the students file out to prepare for their evening responsibilities - ushering and Front of House duties for the shows currently running at the Denver Center. Most barely have time for a few bites of a sandwich before it’s all smiles for the patrons and company members across the streets. Their night will end after the shows are over, and then it’s back into rehearsal for whatever project or scenes are currently being worked on. Most are lucky if their head finds a pillow by midnight.

These are the future storytellers of America, giving their lives and every ounce of energy they can muster to ensuring a rich culture for all of us.

They’re getting married in April at the Stateroom - one of my favorite wedding venues - right at sunset. While the location is prime, the light will be glorious, I’m most looking forward to spending some more time in the company of these two. If you’re ever in the mood for a great story about an engagement and a rather… um… unaware bride, ask them about it. It’s hilarious!

We ventured through some of the back streets of Boston, went skating on the frog pond, and wandered around the common for a bit. The snow was falling steadily and all was silent in the city