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

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.

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.

My roomate moved out.

Clash of the titans.

The company I work with, Royale, had its holiday party at our studio recently. Doubled as a small gallery showing for our staff artists. Everyone submitted a lot of great pieces. I had thirty or so in the showing. Sizes varied from 8x8s to 20x20s. Some framed, some not. More sold than I’d expected and all the proceeds went to Charity Water. Its a great thing.It was strange putting my face to my art. Really don’t ever talk about it much. You wouldn’t know I do this unless someone told ya. I’m fortunate to have so many friends that appreciate and support what I love to do. Choosing guests was somewhere between a rock and a hard place. Couldn’t invite fifty people. In the end, it was them that made the night for me. Theres a whole mess of pictures on the new Royale Blog. All in all, a way fun and sincere night.

My Dad. The smartest, and possibly loudest man I know. I’ve no doubt he could easily talk over a fire engine. Today is his birthday.

No matter how old he gets, or I get, I’ll always see him as a superhero.

Wore these shoes on and off for nearly eight years. Soles worn down enough to walk crooked. Tossed them today, but felt like I should’ve buried them.

They know where I’ve been, and by now where I’m going, but they can’t take me anymore.

Black Water by Timber Timbre.

Charlie, Jess, Ryan and myself. Hadn’t seen these ones in years. Didn’t even know Ryan and Jess lived here in Los Angeles. Charlie and I grew up together. Met the summer between fifth and sixth. We’ve grown a lot taller and wider since, but here we are, in the same picture. Can’t help but smile thinking about the all things we’ve done and lies I’ve told my parents to do them. But I always made my curfew. Was glad to see my friend.

“You’re a little tall to be Waldo. You’d get found every time.”

Best part was asking people I’ve just met to be discreet about my location.

Wont lie, was a little nervous on this one.

My beautiful mother doing what she does best, loving us unconditionally. Today’s technically Halloween, but everybody knows Mother’s Day is everyday.

Love you Mom, from the bottom of the heart you gave me.

Kev and I. Known him over six years, four of those we worked together. Friday was his last day. He left to catch a dream. There’s no line I could draw or words I could write that’d get across how monumental he’s been to me. So I won’t. I’m glad he’s gone. He’ll finally shine so bright.

We told Fall it’s got no business around here. CicLAvia was beautiful.

A.A. Bondy playing The Bootleg Theater.

I went alone, and meant to. Saw one of my favorite artists play the equivalent of a spacious apartment. It was perfect.

Important ones.

Happiness.

Got a roommate. Slight language barrier, but I think its gonna work out.

A tiny ship, sailing the tiny seas.

Taken in Chicago, Illinois, at Lollapalooza 2011. I’d tell tales of the adventure but I don’t want to break my poor sweet mother’s heart.

Me and my one and only brother, when we still ran wild, with the Gulf of Mexico to our backs. He turned Thirty last month, can’t wrap my head around it still. I’ve grown taller than him, but he’ll always be my big brother. He’s got a reputation for being quiet, but I think he just chooses his words very carefully, always respected that about him. I believe in him, and have pride in him, always.

Happy Thirty Joey.

My dad taught me to ride a bicycle down this sidewalk. There’s a lot more shade.

A for affort.

Never the place, always the people.

Duncan the navigator. George the poet. Drew the holiday. Ashley the dancer. Alexis the Sun. Jacquelynne the Italifornian. Colby the certain. Christina the welcoming. Mike the noble.

My Dad, Montreal, September 1982 on a motorcycle trip. Only twenty-three here, but already married four years, and already a father. Makes me wonder sometimes what the hell I’m doing. Don’t think there was ever a time he wasn’t invincible. Nor will there be, and thats why hes my Dad.

Happy Fathers Day Dad.

Love,
Kyle.

These are my friends. The kind that when asked to bring a chair to a party in my empty apartment, bring a couch. I was about as low as hell, for a long time, before I met these people. I’m so lucky, and I know that well.

Taken at Indio, California, during the Coachella Valley Music & Arts Festival. Surrounded by 75,000 like-minded individuals. So incredibly inspiring.

Keep The Car Running by Arcade Fire.

Found use for these catalogs addressed to old tenants.

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