Lately, I’ve been thinking about the way things fold into each other. I wrote your name on a piece of paper, and I fastened it with accordion folds, watching you become one- then many- then one again. l heard someone say recently: ‘we are rarely one thing’. I fold a piece of paper in half. There is you, then me, then a fold, then you on me. I can’t decide if my favorite part is into, or, expand.
I once read a cab driver a poem
"A precise emotion needs a precise expression. If what I feel is not precise then should I call it love? …. I am desperately looking the other way so that love won’t see me."
Jeanette Winterson, Written on the Body. (Always close by)
Realizing you’ve out grown something but haven’t quite grown into the next thing yet, or, how to climb in after climbing out.
Toupees also welcome 3441 N Broadway @ 730 & bring some brains & maybe a pen and definitely some 🍷….✏️📓✏️📓✏️📓✏️📓✏️📓✏️📓✏️📓✏️📓
I celebrated my one year anniversary in the city last week. These are some pictures I took the first week I lived here, apartment hunting. Packing up my first apartment here, getting ready to move to another a few train stops up. I didn’t know what it looked like when I first moved here, and I still don’t know. But, it’s been one hell of a few hundred days. Making it through the winter deserves it’s own merit badge, and that goes to any of you Chicago dwellers. I’m going to do my best to stay defrosted and on my toes this next one.
35mm // July (pt. 2) I am outside & they are inside
35mm // July.