It had to be a convincing disguise. I was going into an unknown world. One that I hadn't even glimpsed at in nearly a decade. Rave culture is something manic and wild and vibrant, reflected in the dress code; my uniform had to be mad. As always, hiding in plain sight was far more fun than creeping about the shadows. Spring Awakening called to my camera. I had no choice but to get involved and engrossed with the crowd of chaos and bass.

This started on Friday... I had planned the day for street photography—my ultimate release and comfortable wheel house. Just another day. However, I have a long list of basic rules to live by, professionally. Technically speaking, I’ve yet to write this list down, but it’s fairly clear in my brainpan. Anyway… Rule #142: "Always chase the interesting crowd. Photojournalism will follow."

It was awe inspiring... Weird, drug-addled, crazy, bass addicts who obey the DJ's every whim some of them may be, but they were so damn alive and lost in this amazing moment of joy and movement and music, rocking an energy and lust for life that I could only envy. I wish I didn't hate this music. And dancing. And close proximity to people.