Pace

On that day we fell out of favor
we lost our rhythm, broke the metronome
that could have been our savior

you walked away while i stayed behind
or was it in opposite directions, memory is unkind.
our love became stencils, outlines with nothing filled in.
empty wishes, hopes and promises filled to the brim.

i still hear whispers of that time we lost
we put down our swords but at what cost
i cross every street to find you there
but you're not really you, and i'm not really here.

i walk in circles to find our familiar pace
but you've gone ahead, running a different race
we should've kept time by counting together
but the beat ran away from us, memory into ether.

Fashion's Night Out

boomerang

it starts somewhere

hemingway

"What do you think happens to a man going on 62 when he realizes that he can never write the books and stories he promised himself? Or do any of the other things he promised himself in the good days?"
"What does a man care about? staying healther. Working good. Eating and drinking with his friends. Enjoying himself in bed. I haven't any of them. You understand, goddamn it? None of them"

Then he turned on me. I was just like the others, pumping him for information and selling him out to the feds. After that day, I never saw him again.

6-26

Booties

Art direction for boots. So simple yet so nuanced.

Art direction

4-10-11

i remember when she danced...