Woke up to the hot sun in the studio.
Handed out 100 invitations.
Jesse posts an Instagram post detailing her love for me and my craft. It was what I needed in the moment and greatly enabled me to continue using my energy in a positive way.
That day I really paid attention to my surroundings outside the studio. I could see the Statue of Liberty, the Manhattan Skyline, the projects, the Empire State Building, and Ikea from the 360-degree windows. It was beautiful. Especially Ikea.
As I’m watching back the videos that Instagram has graciously archived for me. I see how much work I put on myself. I’m in the zone, I’m having fun. But I’m getting tested. I’m having sink showers and using wet wipes that were left over from a shoot someone did. By the end of the week I will almost mentally break down, my ankles will develop sores and my skin will feel soaked in kitchen grease.
This is the day I get lost on the subway, again.
I ask a larger man for help on the subway to wherever it is I’m heading. It turns out he was a backup dancer for Travis Scott at the VMA’s. Whatever year Travis played the VMA’s.
I’m walking home and I see one of my invitations on the ground on Ostego street.
I work. I disassemble the wooden pallet to make the firepit in the center of the room.
I call my mom and tell her I have no money.
I work throughout the evening and turn off all the lights in this massive warehouse. I play “The Broken Places” by Moby and self-reflect. Goodnight.
Handed out 100 invitations.
Jesse posts an Instagram post detailing her love for me and my craft. It was what I needed in the moment and greatly enabled me to continue using my energy in a positive way.
That day I really paid attention to my surroundings outside the studio. I could see the Statue of Liberty, the Manhattan Skyline, the projects, the Empire State Building, and Ikea from the 360-degree windows. It was beautiful. Especially Ikea.
As I’m watching back the videos that Instagram has graciously archived for me. I see how much work I put on myself. I’m in the zone, I’m having fun. But I’m getting tested. I’m having sink showers and using wet wipes that were left over from a shoot someone did. By the end of the week I will almost mentally break down, my ankles will develop sores and my skin will feel soaked in kitchen grease.
This is the day I get lost on the subway, again.
I ask a larger man for help on the subway to wherever it is I’m heading. It turns out he was a backup dancer for Travis Scott at the VMA’s. Whatever year Travis played the VMA’s.
I’m walking home and I see one of my invitations on the ground on Ostego street.
I work. I disassemble the wooden pallet to make the firepit in the center of the room.
I call my mom and tell her I have no money.
I work throughout the evening and turn off all the lights in this massive warehouse. I play “The Broken Places” by Moby and self-reflect. Goodnight.
