I can start at the beginning, or skip the uneventful stuff and head straight for the 3rd grade. That is when I first learned long division, discovered that Albany was the capitol of New York, took my first serious interest in music and decided that I wanted to become a rockstar when I grew up. The natural first step was choosing an instrument that would catapult me past my fellow 3rd grade contemporaries and on the straight path to rock stardom… My mother signed me up for violin lessons.
Like all great stories, mine too had a stroke of luck involved. Two weeks into my burgeoning classical violin career, I leave my lesson briefly to head to the bathroom. I return to find that someone had mistaken my instrument for a seat cover. Three-hundred dollars later, my parents made the executive decision to find me an instrument that could for lack of a better term “take a beating”. That was the day I found the drums.
My entrance into the world of photography was not quite as divine… as the “musician who liked to take pictures,” I was given the task of documenting our time out on the road and of several other bands on stage. After awhile, it can get boring taking photos of ill groomed musicians all day, so I began to train my lens (I only had one at the time) on subjects less musically inclined… such began my fascination with the beauty of photography. These days as both a photographer and professional musician living in New York and on the road I enjoy keeping my camera strapped to my back allowing me to take the picture that jumps out at me.

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