My mind left me.
Level 33.
Still on hiatus.
Escaping West next month when all of my work is done.
It’s never done.
Shoutout @the_realvictorz for flying across the country to get me into my own computer. I literally cried when I couldn’t remember my own password.
Being insane is no longer fun.
@vivekgramaswamy 2028
Fled back to Caribbean waters just as I took my sweaters out of storage. Perhaps this is me laying Summer to rest. One final sun-kissed surf of 2024 before we transition to carving pumpkins and slopes.
Haven’t been here in 5 years and it’s exactly as I remember. 85 degree ocean water and an island begging the world to notice it.
Me too little island, me too.
Which begs the question - How do you define yourself when the world no longer does?
I’ve been listening intently to what my madness conjures while I wonder to myself if playing with that Ouija Board 15 years ago did a number on me.
The lies we tell ourselves.
And the truths we don’t.
The truth is, I didn’t even pack a camera.
The truth is, I’m keeping the braids this time.
S/O @ronakaminstudio for bringing me out. Love y’all.
My first flight was to Hawaii as a kid. My parents somehow took their 5 kids on a multi-island tour.
Now that’s discipline.
I didn’t know black sand beaches existed. I didn’t know how beautiful the world was, and coming from spoiled Southern California, that’s saying something.
I’ve been coming back more frequently as an adult. Twice alone this year, and when you’re coming from the East Coast, it’s demanding no matter how much you travel.
But I continue to love it. The culture. This isolated volcanic island in the pacific in the grips of an identity crisis.
That the idea to keep it beautiful means keeping greed away.
Or as the locals put it, “Keep the country, country.”
I’m fortunate to blend in as a local for the most part. And hate that I’m not. But if there’s one thing I can and will always respect is their culture.
Everyone is kind. The sky is shitting rainbows. The sunsets are goddamn purple. Soft rain kisses you at random and it’s this constant reminder to be present and aware that I think is the key to this paradise.
All I’m saying is,
you don’t need a passport.
48 hour Yale Artist retreat with photographers from both coasts.
None of us were planning on being in Connecticut this week.
The three of us haven’t even been in the same room, let alone state in over a year.
But when your best friend randomly gets work on the East Coast on his birthday week, you show up.
And you call the only other mad artist who will drive to another State last minute to join in.
When I opened the door to our Airbnb @the_realvictorz said ever so smoothly, “Haven’t seen you since Hawaii”.
And it all came flooding back.
The 16 states we’ve met up.
The 4 alone this year.
Starting our creative journeys high af on life and low as hell on funds in your USC apartment 7 years ago.
To you describing your schedule to me this week,
“I’m in CT Mon-Friday. Fly to Las Vegas Friday morning and shoot a wedding there at 2pm. Then I’ll drive to Los Angeles Friday night and shoot two weddings there Saturday and Sunday. Drive back to Las Vegas Sunday night.”
The best part, then next time I’ll see him is in Hawaii.
Surround yourself with people who are unsatisfied with anything in life being enough.
The three of us sat around and talked for hours about one thing, how to improve.
Appreciate friends like you.
S/O @graphicole with her epically casual Leica shots.
Side note, New Haven pizza is literally the best.
Happy Borkday to the woman who taught me that you should kiss your best friends.
That watching the world burn doesn’t haven’t to be lonely.
From New York to Los Angeles
Massachusetts to Mexico
I love you.
@diet_chaos92
pictured: everyone’s best friends.
When you call @stopunsubscribe , ready to pull your best friend card to make him fly across the country to shoot your parents’ vow renewal and brother’s proposal, only to find he’ll already be in California and how dare you question the synchronicity of your lives as if your manic depressions don’t astrally align like that only always.
Fun fact: we grew up in the same neighborhood and have never hung out together in California until this day. Apparently our bar is “out of state in a Waldorf Astoria.”
Anyway, to the Kafka to my Dotosevsky. The Addams to my Yves. The Pupu to my Boni. My best friend & THE official extended member of my family, thank you for capturing yet another, & another, of my family’s core memories.
Finding fewer and fewer things in focus these days.
Is my eyesight getting worse? Am I crying too much? Do I just suck? Or am I reflecting the blur that’s been my reality lately.
All valid. All probably true.
Surely it’s not the psychotics. Surely it’s not the self medication. Surely it’s not the whiplash you cause.
Surely.
Love you CA, I’m back in July for everyone I neurotically missed. NYC next week. Sleep, never. Blur, perpetuating.
📸 : @thechiefingchef
Lasers are officially the most difficult thing to photograph.
You think you’re quick? You think you’re a sharpshooter?
Oh, so you’ve played video games before?
Lasers will challenge every reflex of your soul.
Make you feel like a worm, an amateur.
Just shoot and pray. I don’t even think settings matter in this type of madhouse.
Still, fun as hell.
Shot for @alexmakinn on a, “Are you free tonight?” type of text.
@liquidstranger @ @fillmorephilly
Surf/Snowboard/Skate - All in the same week.
Bucket list item checked off.
Coming to Hawaii for work does not suck.
Neither does renting a Supra.
Or surfing with high school friends during sunset in one of the prettiest places in the world to do so.
I’ve realized that I constantly need to shock myself back to life.
Like using a defibrillator for my soul.
This trip did that for me. Sure, it only took two weeks of aggressively trying to live and thrashing my body on snow, asphalt, and sea. But hey, it worked.
