I got my start in dive bars where no one cared if I blinded the whole crowd with my flash—as long as the drinks were cold and the band was loud. I barely knew what I was doing, but those sweaty, chaotic nights taught me everything. From beer-soaked lenses to stolen gear and spontaneous portraits, I found my voice behind the camera. Here are 5 lessons I learned in those sticky-floored spaces that still shape every gig I shoot.

I recently followed a friend into the quiet chaos of backyard butchery—processing chickens for her spring wedding on a suburban Goleta property that backs up to a butterfly sanctuary. As someone who’s worked in animal welfare, I didn’t expect to be documenting blood on engagement rings and sunlight catching on passion fruit vines. But there I was, shoes stained, camera in hand, watching the sacred and the gritty blur together.