Bitches hear me play one (1) Ethel Cain song on the drive back home from the bar and immediately ask me “are you okay?”

Bitch I’m from fucking Indiana. I’ll always be okay.

I hope you miss the place that raised you…

Recent additions…

A Series Of Unfortunate Events (2004)

Production Design by Rick Heinrichs

Walking the dog…

You guys ever get fucking wasted with your best friends and decide to shave your eyebrows on a whim because you’re incredibly impulsive and you’ve always wanted to do it...?

Or is it just fucking me…?

hi. been taking a moment to myself after losing so much motivation creatively. recently I've gone back to the things I used to escape as a child. The film sets that I yearned to explore. The music I used to enjoy before my mental health reflected itself in the sad and diaristic songs I have listened to over and over on repeat for the past 4 years. The books that taught me to hope and dream and learn and keep fighting. it's humbling to look back and see that somehow, despite the odds, I'm overcoming it all. By my lonesome. Which is worth commending and celebrating. Too many therapists and friends and family have all insisted that the past is never worth exploring. What's done is done and life goes on. Yet I've found it hard to ignore the beckoning calls of my past self yearning to be reborn and relived and validated. You'll never get your old self back. Yet, you never had to to begin with. He, or she, or they, live inside. Still as hopeful. Still as curious and eager to be let in. You'll find in time that the past will never go away. Like you and I, it breathes and rages and dissolves into particles of energy and light that will one day help guide you to a place where you can learn to be proud of yourself. To accept yourself. And most of all, to love yourself. The past is still alive. And I hope you find a way to one day welcome it with open arms.

Thank you for validating my creativity on here. It means the world. To finally have people looking at and sharing what I've carefully pieced together all on my own is such a special thing. I promise I'll start posting more soon.

It’s too bad I was baptized as an infant…

Finally laid your remains to rest, somewhere in deep, deep, southern Michigan.

florence + the machine- delilah (the odyssey)

Took a long drive to Fairmount, Indiana today to visit and photograph the farmhouse where James Dean grew up and his final resting place.

As I drove around, the plains and nothingness I’ve long grown accustomed to, swiftly began to blend alongside his iconography plastered across every corner of the small town, eventually, through its blurry symbiosis, came the quiet realization that life truly isn’t about where we come from, but about who we end up becoming.

James Dean photographed by Dennis Stock, Fairmount, Indiana, 1955

No Mans Land

I'll follow you down til' the sound of my voice will haunt you…

I can take Prozac for the OCD, I can take Adderall for the ADHD, I can practice cognitive behavioral therapy for the trauma and anxiety, but what the fuck do I do about the fact that I’m a fucking Gemini?

I’m eternally cursed….

Iconic