keep the upstairs happy

now that I'm unfrozen, here's my past week.

my freshly woken mind briefly considered the apocalypse, or a rampant fire, when I laid eyes on the thick haze that replaced the usual sunrise I admired, consuming the apartment balcony and any, every sight into the neighborhood beyond. my ears were still ringing for the first time I woke up that morning, when the power at wonderbread’s complex miraculously returned along with a screeching fire alarm well above 100 decibels.

the annual texas freeze this year has been incredible career wise, providing lots of opportunity to shoot in the street with the reporters at the texas tribune. but my home was without power since wednesday morning til Saturday evening, unlike every other building on our street that mocked us with florescent flickers and led strip lit bedrooms.

Austin Energy line worker Brian Behrens prepares power lines for re-energization on Feb. 4, 2023.

Tree limbs in North Shoal Creek cleared in preparation for Austin Energy electrical line maintenance on Feb. 4, 2023.

comforts from the bitter temperatures include the hot water my ancient house provides with its gas heater, west campus pho, layering two pairs of pants, defacing the endless construction sites in fingerless gloves and bright red home-depot-bought spray paint (with tags identifiable enough for friends, but not cops, to attribute to us) and watching my friends drink alcoholic levels of beer in their enviously warm apartment.

last week I had the pleasure of accompanying two tribune reporters reporting on the freeze, including line workers in Austin working in a neighborhood, a 76-year-old couple in a deli who had been 32 hours without power or heat, portraits of a mom and her daughters losing medicaid, a family in the central library taking refuge from the bitter cold of their home, and another family who were on night six without power who’s nighttime routine I photographed.

Whitney and Nick Morrow and their son Shelby, 2, were part of the tens of thousands of Austin households and businesses that went days without electricity after a winter storm wreaked havoc across Texas last week.

The Morrows were living out of a tiny ice cooler with caprisun and wine, Whitney told me, and stayed with her cousin a few nights when the temperature was too low to bear without heat. Shelby, their 2-year-old, was shy at first. He eventually warmed up and was excited to show me his art and describe the sweat in his hair. When I checked in on Whitney yesterday, she told me her son said to her that morning “where’s my camera friend, momma?”.

I used my 50mm f1.2 lens, which was beautiful for working in low light, yet horrendous for its low margin for error shallow depth of field using manual focus. regardless, its definitely a savior companion I’ll bring to every shoot because of its flexibility in low light. (but don’t shoot at 1.2, my editor said, or you tip to aesthetic more than journalistic on the photography scale).

Alexandria Robertson comforts her daughter Novah Wilson on her bed in Manor, TX, on Feb. 2, 2023.

I’ll end with a quote from eddie gasper he shared with me on Saturday.

“Keep the upstairs happy.”

although he was referencing taking photos that will serve executives and higher ups, I think the phrase is a nice way to think about serving yourself— keeping the upstairs of your mind happy and at peace with intentional actions in the physical plane. placing a camera in my hands and creating makes my neurons fire faster than whatever my psychiatrist prescribes to me. last week’s assignments were incredible distractions from the sorrow that settled in my cold bedroom sheets, snowed on top of my hair and melted through my skull.

but today’s sunshine will dry that sorrow.