Photos won’t do it justice. Words I say, won’t do it justice. “People love you when they’re on your mind.. A thought is love’s currency.”
There’s a poster of my own face in my house. I shot this on my 29th birthday– two years of searching for solace and comfort in the fact that I will always share my birthday with the death of my favorite artist.
I got this table from thrift and carried it all the way home. I timidly set up the space, took all my clothes off, and in that moment felt like a true artist.
Nothing NOTHING I do, say, or feel can sum up the way it feels to look up and see myself in a picture with Mac Miller, as it this is the closest I’ll ever get. That’s okay with me. This moment embodies the feeling of transitioning from a fan to an artist.
