I shot these images back in mid July of this year when things seemed to be spiraling out my control. Few things were making sense. After constant distractions and an overload of the outside world, I realized I was having another identity crisis.
Naturally, I set up my camera on my tripod and took things in a way that seemed much healthier for me...
This was a time when I had an insistent need for drawing on myself (at least more than usual). There were fragments on my skin that weren't showing. I was bruised, fractured, and full of emotion.
I never got to posting this set because it felt disconnected. The person in the pictures looked like me, but looking at his eyes felt like looking into somebody else.
The (not so) funny part was that my camera tipped over after the first few shots and fell hard on the floor, breaking the flash trigger. This enough made me want to delete everything and forget about it, but I kept the images and months later came back to them with a different perspective. These are some words I wrote at the time:
"the truest thing held
then? to displace and feel strain
Silence hits at the break of sunrise
The mystery of the light
the most free I’ve ever been
but somehow the most captive in my own mind
Moments
Just as we disappear
The sounds not loud enough
Misjudgment of luck
windows & my obsession with light
It’s never enough
I still stand up
And it hurts
We wore a crown
on our wounds."