In a few days, I’ll be photographing Valentine’s on Ice at the outdoor rink in Schenley Park. I’ve photographed events for the City of Pittsburgh for several years now, but this will be my first time working at this particular venue. Now, that doesn’t mean I’m walking in blind. It just means I have a little more prep to do.

Alright, this one’s personal. I shoveled snow outside my house four separate times today. FOUR!

By the end of it, our highly scientific and incredibly accurate measurement method—a yardstick taped to a stake in the ground—showed that we’d gotten about 10 inches.

A couple of years ago, Jesse Naus moved his recording and media production business, Red Caiman Studios, from its former home in Pittsburgh’s Uptown neighborhood to a much larger space just north of the city. Since then, he hasn’t missed a beat.

Pittsburgh was quiet today. New Year’s Day has a way of doing that. The city slows down, the usual noise fades, and everything feels slightly slower. I went out this afternoon to take some photos just as the light started dropping low enough to stretch across the river, and the streets felt calmer than usual.

Be My Neighbor Day was first, and it wasn’t just another assignment. It was a community event in my own backyard, right here in Etna, and the weather couldn’t have been better.

This wasn’t our first time working together. Far from it. I’ve photographed band promo shoots for his old band Chase and the Barons, their album release parties…hell, I even photographed his wedding (Hi, Liv!). Every time we work together, the same thing happens. The pressure disappears. The expectations fall away. There’s room to try things, miss things, and follow ideas without worrying about where they’re supposed to land.

The Pittsburgh Steeline didn’t stay put. They swept across the entire area surrounding the stadium — Art Rooney Ave, tailgate lots, sidewalks jammed with fans, the stage at Tequila Cowboy — and everywhere they went, the temperature kept dropping but the energy kept rising like somebody was cranking a hidden dial.

Recently, I was at The Frick Pittsburgh to photograph families on the porch of Clayton, the historic Frick family mansion on Penn Ave. Straightforward holiday portraits. Keep the line moving. Make sure nobody blinks. Nothing unusual.

The sky usually is the spectacle on its own, but Wednesday night, even with the promise of the Aurora Borealis making a grand appearance, it stayed quiet and let the city do the glowing instead.

There’s a certain kind of energy that lingers after a concert. It's the kind that hums with everything that just happened on stage. I felt that energy recently, while photographing the Pittsburgh Concert Society’s Major Winners Concert.