Said the same thing six years ago. The difference is, I thought it was artistic then. Now I see it’s just cowardice, and hurting what’s important. I’m trying.
Left to right, Shweb, Dan, Charlie, Frankie, Chris, me, and Anthony. I was probably 11. Was one hell of water balloon fight. Anthony’s mom, Sally, took this picture. I can’t imagine an image that better captures how we grew up.
We’d spend our days seeing who could throw what the farthest. Who was the fastest. Who was the bravest, which typically entailed wrestling Frankie. He had such a strength advantage, that anyone only ever agreed to wrestle him if he was on his knees. We were wild and we ran like it, and the suburbs was our place to do it. Couldn’t have gown up anywhere better. Not specifically my hometown, but just the fact that it was the suburbs.
I live in the urban sprawl of Los Angeles now, a long ways from my hometown. I like it here, but didn’t always. It’s the people I’ve found and the girl I love that make it what it is for me. It’s where I belong now, but I couldn’t imagine being a kid here. I don’t know that I could have grown if not in suburban soil. I don’t know that any kid could. Confinement and wild freedom seem at odds. For that, I think some far off day, I may belong to those suburbs again.
In The Air Tonight by Phil Collins
My mom forbade me from taking a picture of her and my dad wearing their tie-dye t-shirts together. Putting that picture here just seemed like the right thing to do.
Easy come, easy go.
I found these words, but almost lost them. You get more wisdom with age, but you also get more forgetful.
My Gram wrote and sent this to me nearly six years ago, when I first moved to California. I really miss her. I wish I could show her everything. Everything I’ve done, everything I will do.
I think about the little cousins I have sometimes. I’m far away enough from them in years and miles, that it’s a struggle to even hold on to their names. But I think about how unfortunate they are, to grow up without her. Then I think about how fortunate I was. I wouldn’t have grown as tall.
One of my favorites.
Today was my last day at the greatest job I’ve ever had. Thank you Royale.
This is Kim, and I made this for her birthday. As colorful as it is, I don’t think it quite captures the sheer positivity and happiness she radiates. She may be the most sincere person I’ve ever met, but by no means, takes shit from anyone. That’s what I like best about her.
She also keeps a really fun and quite popular blog. Check it out!
Smoke Gets in Your Eyes by The Platters.
Here we go.
Alexis. Drew. Magic Johnson’s Friday’s. LAX. San Jose. Terminal Drinking. More flying. My first stamp. Lima. Our apartment. Carolina. Sebastian. 4am 90s top 40. Taxis that weren’t taxis at all. Karaoke. Pisco sours. Sushi. Con permiso. Agua con gas. Agua sin gas. Tour busses. Catacombs. Chili’s. Our taxi ran out of gas. Ice cream. Another plane. Cusco. Our hostel. Cinemax. Michelle. Dancing in markets. Hiking. Hunted by wild dogs. Altitude sickness. Snickers grande. Canadian Irish pub. Dos mas please. A train. Aguas Calientes. Jurassic Park. Hot springs. Market bargaining. Machu Picchu. Touring. Hiking. Photo ops. Wonder. Naps. Rain. A late train. A missed bus. High-speed taxi driving. Intercepting and boarding our bus. Frostbite. Arequipa. Sand boarding fail. Rafting. Rafting rescue. Cerveza hunting. Bibs. Alpaca. Another plane. Back to Lima. More Chili’s. Ramada. Security cameras. More Cinemax. Another plane. San Jose. More flying. LAX. Mckenzie. Home.
That was my trip to Peru. Exhausting, but I wouldn’t do a thing differently. If this was difficult to grasp, then I described it perfectly. You really had to be there.
Royale, the company I work with, sponsored me and two others to attend the Style Frames design conference in New York City. I took in a lot from the experience, and feel truly fortunate to have had the opportunity.
It was my second, and longest visit to the Empire State. I spent most of my time in Manhattan. It’s an amazing thing to walk through its streets. Literally standing in the shadows of the achievements of men. I could see a contagious hustle about everything. Everyone moves with purpose. It’s inspiring. But even in all this wonder, I remember feeling most amazed at the sight of my own breath.
Photo Credit: Handel Eugene
My apartment doesn’t have a washer or dryer, or even the hookups. So naturally, I kept a key to my old apartment complex. Twice a month, for a good three years, I ran their treadmills while I did my laundry. If you listen to your headphones loud enough, people know better not ask you what floor you live on.
Anyhow, they finally changed the locks on me. But now I’ve got a girlfriend kind enough to let me wash my clothes at her place. What’s funny is, mile after mile on that treadmill, for three years, she was always the one I was thinking about. I would daydream the impossible event of her falling for me. In reality, she hardly knew I existed. And now, I drive to her apartment, and she lets me up to do my laundry.
My one-thousandth post. Took me seven years. A lot of time and work. I wonder now, have I accomplished anything? Was I even trying to? Have I gotten back what I put in? Absolutely.
I started doing all this when I was twenty years old, jobless, and in college. Thought employers might like it. Turns out they did. It brought me 2,700 miles to California, and changed my life forever.
I’m twenty-seven now, and still at it. After seven years, my work now rests in the homes of good friends and total strangers. The times I live in have allowed it to be seen and appreciated by tens of thousands of people, across entire oceans and languages. Weird and awesome to think about. I never set out to accomplish any of these things, but I’m glad I have. I’m sure this is all sounding a bit pretentious, but I don’t care. I am proud of what I’ve done here.