It started with
Van Halen.
I was fresh out of the University of Maryland’s Radio, Television and Film program. No portfolio. No press pass. No connections. Just one goal: meet Eddie Van Halen.
So I picked up the phone and cold-called Warner Bros. Records. Asked for photo credentials and an interview with the band. Because why not?
They said yes. Just send it on letterhead.
Small problem. I didn’t have letterhead. I didn’t have a publication. Just a lot of nerve. So I walked into The Diamondback, Maryland’s student paper, and pitched: I’m doing a Van Halen piece for Warner Bros. Want to run it too? Then, on my way out the door, I stole a stack of their letterhead.
What made me think that would work? No idea. It worked anyway. That stack of stolen paper started a career.
Thirty years later, I don’t need the letterhead
I’m also a musician. I know how a set breathes: when the lights hit, when the artist steps forward, when the moment’s about to break. Musicians call it playing in the pocket. I shoot in it.
