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.
This is my new standard. Art Director Linds Redding published these words in an article on his blog last March, and died of cancer the following October. The article is called A Short Lesson in Perspective and is one of the rawest pieces of writing I’ve ever read.
I’ve gotten out of bed In the middle of night to remove art I just published, out of fear of upsetting people by morning. Fuck that.
If I truly believe in what I’m doing, and I do, then I shouldn’t ever feel sorry for the things I do here. I can offer no apologies. Close your eyes if you have to. This is my new standard. We’ll see if I have enough spine to honor it.
Hasn’t been an entirely unproductive hiatus. Things are always in motion.
Years ago, Six Foot Giraffe started out as my digital portfolio. Where I kept student, professional, and personal work, all under the same roof. But overtime, these humble doodles I call my personal work, outgrew my other efforts. At least by my own standards. After several years of living a homeless life, I’ve built a new home for my lost commercial work to belong.
Sought a few quotes on having it built for me, but my old friend Nick Hand, I believe without him even knowing it, inspired me to do it myself. Doesn’t look like much, but I worked very hard for it. And I am happy.
I think of quitting it sometimes, but every so often words like yours find their way to me, and inspire me to keep trying.
Thank you.
I needed it.
Poor kid thinks I’m her Grandpa.
Taken at the LA State Historic Park during FYF, a two day music festival during Labor Day weekend. Givers played my favorite set of both days. It’s so inspiring to see and hear such talent. I remember standing there feeling like I needed to be somewhere else. Creating something of my own. Not just watching. But I truly enjoyed the set, and even more so the company. So I’m glad I wasn’t.
But still, I want to create more. I want to inspire.
They were playing Atlantic when I took this and they dedicated it to their lost friend Eddie. It was heartfelt. This girl’s voice could move a mountain.
Atlantic by Givers.
We were really bored and just down right unenthusiastic about this. So boring.
My girlfriend’s five year old niece said this when asked what her favorite color was. I told her it was a very good answer.
My Aunt Janet. She’s been so involved and supportive in just about everything I’ve done in my life, every step of the way. Seen me fail, succeed, short and tall. She is a person in my life that truly cares for me. Could never thank her enough for all that she’s done. Over the years, she’s taken me to see and do so many things that I otherwise may never have experienced. I wouldn’t be who I am without those experiences, and I wouldn’t be who I am without her.
Happy Birthday Aunt Janet.
Love,
Kyle
Everybody owes somebody.
My Grandfather, James Patrick Smith, when he was only 20 or so. Today he’s 80. But everyday, he’s one of the greatest, most influential people in my life. My family says I take after him, but I know I’ll never compare. He’s made entirely of good qualities. If I become just a fraction of the man he is, I’ll have done pretty ok.
Happy Birthday Gramp. Can’t wait to show you all the things I accomplish by your 90th.
Love,
Kyle
I Can See The Pines Are Dancing by A.A. Bondy.
Saw this on the news. Bears an eerie resemblance to my friend George. Hide your tacos.
My Aunt Marilyn passed. Known her forever. Only in my grown years I understood how often she was dealt a bad hand. She always made the best of it though. So positive. Smiling. Laughing. Radiant.
I’ll think of you before I dare complain about a thing.
Goodbye Aunt Marilyn.
I’m in fourth grade, its Valentines Day, and I got hold of some Spider-Man branded Valentines cards. Rules are, you hand them out to everyone, no one is left out. My fourth grade self made damn sure that everyone got the same exact, boring, generic, platonic card from me. Everyone except my fourth grade crush of course. Samantha something. Her card was Doctor Octopus, a six-armed Spider-Man villain, shouting “I can’t wait to get my arms around you!” A clear as day declaration of my feelings, all on the table.
One by one, she went through her cards and I waited for her reaction across the classroom. Finally, she held and read mine, looked to me, and called out… “EWWWWWWW KYLE!?”
My fourth grade self was crushed, never forget it.
AA Bondy playing the LA Natural History Museum. It was a full night for me, but there really isn’t much that would’ve kept me.
“Don’t stop imagining
The day that you do is the day that you die.”
17 by Youth Lagoon
George the Poet. This day is his birthday.
Met a lot of folks since living in Los Angeles, but he stands a bit taller than most to me.
Today is this mans birthday, and this man is Michael. Got a lot of stories with this one, known him seven years now.
We moved to Los Angeles around the same time. Like to think we leaned on each other a bit. But really, it was more me leaning on him. I owe him a lot. His family too.
Many adventures, many more to pass.
From Small Things by Bruce Springsteen.
Indio, California, during the Coachella Valley Music & Arts Festival. My third year going, but felt entirely new.
We Own The Sky by M83.
My friends are crafty.
If only.
A good thing I had braces.