An Introduction
Hello there,
I’ve wanted to start some kind of a newsletter for about two years, as writing long-form Instagram captions and sending them into the void started to lose its luster. I was desperate for other modes of communication that might allow me to share my feelings with a bit more intention. I would always add, “work on a newsletter” to my to-do lists whenever I’d travel somewhere for an extended period or attend an artists’ residency or fellowship program. I always felt like I had to find the proper moment, set just the right scene, and that the writing needed to be urgent or galvanizing. Essentially, I overthought it and spent about 18 months attempting to get started. Today I decided just to give it a go!
I’m writing this on a plane from London where I’ve spent the last 26 days. I’ve got about 45 minutes in the air until my plane touches down in New York City. For me, this has been a very complicated year, one of intense transition and loss. I’ve had my heart broken once or twice and I’ve lost a few friends. Opportunities that I was desperate for slipped through my fingers, and the weight of having my heart broken challenged my self worth. Reaching out to you now, as we transition from autumn into Mariah Carey’s holiday season, feels right somehow.
I gave up my New York apartment in February because I was terribly unhappy there. I spent March and April living in Omaha, Nebraska for the Bemis Artist in Residency Program. This time was very generative for my thinking but introduced me to a new level of loneliness. I spent nearly the entire two months either writing in a coffee shop or sitting quietly in my studio. It was a sustaining loneliness, and its effects still linger. In April, I returned to New York for two weeks, and during that time I photographed my first cover of the year, the cover of Rolling Stone at that. It was a lovely experience. From there I flew to LA for three weeks to rest, reset, and connect with friends old and new. I had this idea that maybe I would move there, and I wanted to get a taste for the culture. I loved a lot of things about my time in LA, but I wasn’t sold in either direction. From there I traveled to Baltimore to photograph a wonderful story for the New York Times about the impact of The Wire on the city. I had lots of thoughts and feelings which you can read in the piece.
From there I traveled to Saratoga Springs to be a Visiting Fellow at Skidmore College’s MDOCS program. This was the best fellowship experience that I’ve had to date. For one month I got to share space with beautiful people, and to connect, inspire, and be inspired by peers and by young, emerging lens-based artists. It fed my soul deeply and I’m forever grateful to my MDOCS family.
Then I traveled back to LA for a month, then to Baltimore, then to New York where I got to accomplish a dream of photographing Lea Michele. Glee did a lot for me when I was in college, and I was so incredibly excited when it was announced that Lea would be playing Fanny Brice in Broadway’s Funny Girl. In fact, within 10 minutes of the announcement, I had already purchased my tickets to see her as Fanny, second row on her second night, and reached out to editors at my favorite five publications. Thankfully, The New York Times was charmed by my slightly assuming email, and they allowed me the opportunity to photograph her. She was a dream, truly.
The next morning, I flew back to LA to photograph The Isley Brothers and Chloe and Halle for Rolling Stone before returning to New York for a road trip to DC, Nashville, and North Carolina for a story not yet published.
To be frank, the back and forth wore me out and not having an apartment of my own took its toll. During all these moments and moments in between I was staying with friends and at Airbnbs, and as a person who grew up chronically homeless in Baltimore, this period was dark and overwhelming. I felt displaced and eager to be settled. Thankfully, I have the most amazing friends and they looked after me with such care.
After two more shoots in LA, one with the wondrous Maya Rudolph for a cover of WSJ Magazine and another cover that’s not out yet, I flew to London where I’ve been recovering from one hell of a year. London is my happy place, and I plan, at some point in the not-so-distant future, to move there.
During my first two weeks in London I fell into a perfect routine. Every morning I’d walk to my favorite café, and the owner, a beautiful Turkish man named Onur, would begin fixing my preferred drink, an oat milk mocha latte. I read every morning for four hours. In the afternoons, for two to three hours, I’d write, mostly focusing on essays. I spent the late afternoon pondering the state of my life, the natural next steps, and the things that I want that seem to be evading me like love, romance, intelligent spending habits, being paid what I’m worth, and actual financial stability. I saw many beautiful friends and met amazing new people. In the final two weeks my schedule grew a bit frenzied and unreliable. I was running to breakfast meetings, park dates, dinners, and events celebrating my dearest British friend Yomi Ṣode and the release of his incredible new book Manorism. I still chipped away at essays and did my reading every day, but far less.
During this time I also started my latest residency as a PAIR (Public Artist in Residence) with the city of New York. Over the next year I will partner with The New York City Office for The Prevention of Hate Crimes to research and implement a public facing project that seeks to make New York City safer for the LGBTQIA+ community, with a particular focus on Black and Brown trans men, women, and gender non-conforming/non-binary folks. I could not be more honored and excited to start this work.
Last, but certainly not least, I am excited to announce that I am now represented as a photographer by de la revolución WORLDWIDE. For some time, representation has seemed like the natural next step in my career, but after 2020, when agencies who had all but ignored Black photographers were rushing to sign any Black artists they could find, I decided to abstain from this sudden onslaught of interest. de la feels like an excellent choice for me, an artist collective with a politic and a point of view that cares about Black Artists and Artists of Color. I’m excited to begin this journey.
So now, careening through the evening sky, I feel the desire to mark this moment. I want to express so much gratitude to my friends who really held me down this year in so many ways. I want to express gratitude to the editors, photo directors, art directors, and anyone who not only hired me, but hired me again and again, because THAT is how you nurture an artist’s voice and career. I’m grateful to all of the people who I’ve worked with in any capacity so far this year and to those who have yet to work with me but who are interested.
I imagine that I’ll be sending a lighter “Year End” email in early December, thanking you all again and sharing a lovely collection of photos that I’m proudest of from the year. However, I just wanted to start the process of cultivating this space, somewhere between a newsletter and a journal entry, inspired by folks like Tiona McClodden, Zito Madu, and Collin Hughes. Future letters will feature updates on my projects, artists that I’m inspired by, things that are bringing me joy and peace, and the offerings that I’m reading and listening to. I’m excited to expand here with you all.
This space will offer something different, something honest, and something personal. Thanks so much for reading. I’ve just landed safely!
-Gio