Joey Phoenix Media
Photographer • Videographer
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Writing and Publications


Words and Such 

Joey currently writes for Creative Salem. She is working on her first book. She occasionally writes copy but prefers immersive journalism. She is partial to the oxford comma. She hates dust jackets.  

You can hire her to write things on your behalf. 

Tidal Shift: Redirecting the Current of Public Space

January 24, 2017 • Creative Salem 

Third Places are at the forefront of our communities. They are integral to the culture, the life, the ebb and flow of our cities. Yet, they’re often underutilized and taken for granted.

That is, unless they have advocates.

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What Happens to an Artist When You Don't Support Their Work 

June 30, 2016 • Creative Salem 

In all things I can only speak from personal experience. Some of the things I experience may be universal, because it seems that the paths of many artists seem to intersect from time to time. To be a creative person is to understand a range of emotions and a depth of reality that a lot of people never get a chance to feel firsthand. Artists have this ability because we’ve been gifted with the opportunity to make the world more beautiful, to call out the world on its bullsh*t, to tell stories in dynamic and vibrant fashions, and to bring attention to the human condition in ways that are both remarkable and unforgettable. 

Writers, painters, poets, photographers, musicians, dancers, videographers, fibre artists, and creators of every medium play such a significant role in crafting a better world. Our ability to create is what separates us as a species, and although everyone on the planet has the capacity to create art, it takes a special kind of person to be a creative, or even more so, a creative professional. 


The Greater Salem Ballet Company – A Dance Family On Pointe

November 23, 2016

Salem’s very own A Performing Arts Academy, tucked away on Swampscott Road in Witch City’s southwestern corridor, is home to a number of dance classes geared towards those aged 3-18.

The wooden floors, pink surroundings, and mirrored walls provide a rehearsal and practice space for any young student willing to learn the art of dance. Although tap, tumbling, jazz, hip-hop, and more are offered within these walls, ballet is the style of choice for many who go there, and for good reason, as it is home to The Greater Salem Ballet Company.

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A Day in Istanbul with Mr. Czengis

January 31, 2014 • Photography Tricks 

“Are you enjoying that snail?” she asks me condescendingly. It’s 3 in the morning and I’m bent over, staring blankly at a gastropod, undeniably the most fascinating thing in my immediate vicinity at the time. Our group guide had caught me in this fixation on the snail because I hadn’t slept in 20 hours, and I wasn’t to be able to for another 24. We were headed to Istanbul during Ramadan.

From the Bulgarian side of the Black Sea our little party had departed via the tiny bus reserved for day trippers. I will lay something out here: I do not typically go on “day trips.” In my humble opinion, it is one of the worst ways to travel, as it so far removes you from the true spirit of the place. By day-tripping you are robbing yourself of a cultural experience and replacing it with something artificial.

Yet I digress. It wasn’t my job to complain, but to take pictures. I had agreed to go, and I was going to make the most of it.



Chin Up, Buttercup. It's just Business. 

February 17, 2017 • Medium

I think one of the most hard-to-face aspects about a creative line of work is when things don’t go the way you planned not to take it personally. To see happenings as “just business” and not as a personal affront is a touch, well, difficult.

Especially when who you are and what you do are interwoven — a spider and its web, a clock and its timekeeping, a photographer and her photographs. You get the, um, picture.



Top 10 Tips for Making it on the Road : A Traveling Photographer’s Survival Guide

April 26, 2013 • Photography Tricks 

It was three in the morning. I was lying on my back on a two-seater in a bus heading north from Dallas, Texas. It was the middle of August, and it had to be near eighty degrees outside, but the bus driver thought that forty-five degrees was the right climate for the interior of the vehicle. I had packed light, extremely light, just a knapsack and my Canon slung around my neck, resting on my chest.

I was asleep, mostly, but freezing. I remember snapping to attention suddenly when I felt the atmosphere around me change. When I opened my eyes, I saw a tall dark man in a hooded sweatshirt leaning over me, looking at me. I sat up instantly, hands grasping for my camera, wishing I had stowed it better, wishing I had brought something to stow it in.

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