Don’t ever tell me to turn it down.

My life has always played at full volume: in the pit getting slammed against the barricade to the thud of the kick drum, in the skies reliving the concert moments that shaped me one playlist at a time, on tv and film sets where carefully managed chaos and unimaginable creative visions collide, and in the sleepless hours of the night where I am convinced I have finally solved the plot hole plaguing me since dawn.

At my core, I’m a storyteller, and the line where every day reality and the dream of something more blur together is a world I thrive in. Sometimes that means standing behind a camera attempting to capture the pure energy of the guitar player killing an epic riff, sometimes it’s writing about that show in a 300 cap venue, but struggling to find the words to convey the feeling of magic in the room, sometimes its reaching for my iPhone to record the most beautiful sunset I have ever seen as I’m flying down the highway at 80mph to the next the city to see my favorite band. No matter the medium, the through-line is always intense, always emotional, always searching for ways to inspire.

My career has carried me across television, film, non-profits, and immersive experiences, bringing deeply moving, almost impossible worlds into reality. But my truest compass has always been music. The raw, sweaty kind that speaks to your soul and demands you feel it with every fiber of your being. It keeps you determined to find that feeling again and again, long after the house lights come on. It’s why I started following bands in the early 2000s (sometimes with a disposable camera), and why I’m revisiting those same highways and hotels twenty-plus years later with a sharper lens and that same passion, reignited like never before.

But most importantly, I’m a Band Aide: deeply emotional, fiercely rebellious, genuinely loyal, and endlessly devoted to the bands who poured their hearts into the music that I hold near and dear.