diary 22 (april 14)

everything is going well, have had the feeling of needing to ruin something soon. i've been attracted to red and have been drawing in a little notebook all the time because i'm afraid to let my mind wander. collected four big white-framed window panes, the blooming flowers off the trees from the sidewalk, spent three stops alone on an empty subway car with a person in a ski mask in the middle of the night, thought about my constructed world. spent premeditated days with my heart beating too fast for hours and listened very closely with my jaw clenched. 

kelsea

friend-photographs (ft beer, cigs, sportswear, hairbrushing, and many slighty-different-tinted-background-values)

pre fete

For ION Magazine


Styling: Jaclyn Bethany
Hair and makeup: Caroline Baribeau
Models: Eddie and Bay at Muse
Styling assistant: Ariona Adams
Assistant: Jessica Olm

erin

 i'm going to try to take more little portraits of my friends

diary 21 (march 14)

I moved to a new home this month, it's open air and regardless of the weather outside the light coming through the windows is cloudy. The pipes make it sound like it's raining inside most of the time, my upstairs neighbor has a cat that I can hear meowing from my bed and there are always birds singing in the backyard during morning. three of the mirrors I collected broke in the first week. The first number of my age changed this month. I would walk aimlessly around brooklyn from 2pm until it was dusk just watching things. I hung up blank white canvases on the walls and crappy fake flowers from the sprinkler pipes. My blue shoelaces keep splitting. I went to oregon to visit my favorite people for a while. The nine of us  all slept in a small apartment with mostly empty closets and drawings were hung up all over the place I could've been awake each night between sleeping for five minutes or three hours, I couldn't tell. I woke up on the plane to everything being iced over and gray instead of varied and green and couldn't stop crying in front of the gate agent in the midwest thinking about the color of the ice while she was trying to rebook my missed flights. Keep waking up at the wrong time alone in my twin bed and spent one morning in the subway station for twenty minutes watching the announcement board flash "manhattan 0 mins" in orange but no train came. Do people that look more ordinary or common get second or harder glances from strangers in public because the people seeing them think that they might recognize someone they know in that person? Someone at a party called me 'little blue riding hood" I left alone it was pouring rain there was a trail of rain puddles from my front door to my bedroom the next morning.

diary 20 (february 14)

 I kept making personal deadlines dictating my moods, "you're only allowed to feel this way until Wednesday" "by the 26th stop acting the way that you have been". Everything was happening again, I spent most evenings thinking about bank transfer times and craigslist emails and missing money and dividing numbers. My shoes match the cracked grey-white pedestrian crossing lines on the streets in manhattan. Snow covered the seats on top of the open tourist busses. I kept thinking about how my friend graffitied "I mostly think about killing myself and sex" really huge in my old stairwell and how I changed it to "I mostly think about myself and my ex". I arrived in soho every morning at the same time and kept track of how the sunlight fell between the tall buildings, the sunny spots on the street changed day to day very slightly and I kept having to change the place I would stand to make sure to be all of the way in the light. I fell down a flight of stairs without noticing I was falling on valentines day and woke up in a snowy dorm at 4pm the next day, threw up when I got home and laid on my floor. My roommates put all of my broken mirror pieces in a tote bag and I threw away almost all of my books. I organized all of my possessions into white vanilla-scented trash bags again.

Sun King

Promotional editorial for Abigail Stewart's Spring/Summer 2014 collection


Styling - Abigail Stewart and Camille Davis
Hair and makeup - Caroline Baribeau
Model - Ella Pearson
Assistant - Jessica Olm

diary 19 (january 14)

The first day of 2014 I spent in abandoned homes in the south, went to the airport in the middle of the night twice to say goodbye, I had awful dreams and remembered that I still have the gauze bracelet from the spool that bandaged my knee last summer. Roadtrip back to the north was slow-going with stops almost every hour and I stayed awake the entire time with no voice left. Stayed in Virginia for a while, slept on a blue pillow in a suburb where the green garbage bins lining the street all had a number corresponding to the house address stamped on them. I still have the tag on my suitcase that says the I live on Classon Avenue, the one I wrote down that I had never seen before. Had to climb into the bus luggage compartment to get my suitcase and the door closed on me. The subway car floors are covered in salt. I watch a plane fly south from Laguardia over my apartment on my roof. My grandmother used to have the television on all the time- said that the sounds of people talking made her feel less lonely.  I said on accident "maybe he thinks of me but I don't know if he's seen my bedspread". I think about the people living in the basement of my building and how the subway runs along the street.

Sleeping In Brooklyn

A story shot for Vogue Italia's New Talents about important places in my neighborhood that I pass by every day.



Styling: Jaclyn Bethany
Makeup: Caroline Baribeau
Hair: Cassie Harwood
Styling Assistant: Ariona Adams
Hair Assistant: Mike Fernandez
Model: Dani @ One Management

Cobwebs

photographs + watercolors I painted when I was fourteen years old.


Styled by Jaclyn Bethany
Hair and makeup by Caroline Baribeau
Model is Kat O'Brien at Wilhelmina

diary 18 (december 13)

Fell back into the habit of not knowing what to do with my free afternoons and not being able to get out the front door. I don't understand the tendency for seclusion I had picked up and I don't know what I should do with it. Kept having reoccurring nightmares where someone I haven't seen for a long time has red all up and down their arms. I got a tattoo. Would only be able to fall asleep during the early evening in my upper living room after not sleeping all night in my bed. The camera I bring out with me broke. I found out that without my camera always with me I feel exactly the same, I didn't wish I had it nearly as much as I was anticipating and I didn't secretly love its absence because it's heavy and I often miss real life things because I'm photographing them. Went to my friend's birthday party in Harlem and started singing until everyone else did too, my friend's music show on 11th street and sat quietly backstage with my hood up. Walked from east village to the west water of manhattan and ended up at a show with peeling walls painted with clouds. Would leave my cafe almost every evening to walk and meet up with different friends in different places and venues. I had no business meetings and hardly answered my email, would walk down flushing avenue in the afternoon light. Crossed the street purposefully at night to walk though the christmas tree sale paths with boom box music and strung up ornaments over the sidewalk. I overheard a conversation about rain watering flowers and a boy late at night who i handed flowers I was carrying said "Now I know how girls feel carrying flowers, it makes you feel mad helpless". The exterminator liked the snowflakes on my apartment ceiling. Felt as I was leaving New York this year that I wasn't going home but leaving my home to visit family and friends. All the seams of my fur coat ripped and I kept dropping things from my pockets in Pittsburgh in a daze, thought too much on the red eye buses. My father talked about how my mother died two days before his birthday and twelve before Christmas and how Decembers were no good. There was an ice storm in Michigan, I slept through Christmas morning on the living room couch. I drove all day from Washington DC to Atlanta with my favorite people to stay with 40 people from  for a week. Slept on the floor and in piles and lost my voice, was handed a vitamin c tablet every morning. Explored abandoned homes during the day and ran between the groups of people in the big house we all stayed at late into the night. The last day of 2013 was my most favorite last day of any year, I kept kissing everyone with my teeth and screaming.

diary 17 (november 13)

I had three shoots that had to do with music, I’m not sure about that or how it happened and I’m not sure if it’s where I want to go with my work but it’s what I’m working on. When I woke up early in the morning on the 12th it was snowing, the colors of the graffiti in my neighborhood look nice and bright against snow. I’ve never been conscious of being cut out of a life but I finally know it, it feels like a square and there’s a neat dashed line running from the top right to the bottom left corner of it. The cold seeped into the subway stations for a few days, but then left again and was replaced by little puddles in the yellow lines. Hope the cold makes it to my bed soon so that I feel less comfortable in doing nothing at all. I heard someone say “your mood ring is broken” to someone else, there are four staircases in my apartment. Spent  every free day I had in a cafe that has a nice empty courtyard and a long entrance. One morning with very grey light I was walking and listened to a line of lyrics and everything was very clear like the grey light all of a sudden “god makes problems just to see what you can stand before you do as the devil pleases: give up the thing you love”

diary 16 (october 13)

i mostly ignored the things i had to do this month, i keep ignoring people and places and thinking and the changes that happen or something. i talk to dozens or hundreds of people most days now. i take three olives out of my fourteen dollar salad four days a week. things have become very calculated i have to be here at this time, this is the time i will be home, this is when i will be finished with my photo work, pay this on this date take this out of this pocket. i shot in the suburbs and i made a studio in my cave of a living room. i made my shoelaces bright blue ribbon. this city has kind of fallen flat for me now that everything is perfectly in its place i’ve found a place for every moving part in my life and i always choose the quickest way from point a to b. have fallen asleep before 4 am maybe once or twice. got attached to the cotton hanging from my ceiling and the ballon that i wrote on and my blue sunlight lamp. my lungs are filled with eggs minus the shells. i went out or stayed in with people that i care about very often but i don’t remember or feel anything about those outings other than just knowing that they happened. i’ve been keeping tabs on certain interactions and thinking about them often, it’s funny how you forget tiny little infatuations can happen after not having any new ones for so long. anyway i only really want to curl up under my blankets.

diary 15 (september 13)

september i don't know about i didn't bring my camera around much and that's directly related to my memory. i spent entire afternoons laying in the grass around brooklyn, people always seemed to be staying with me. i went to museums alone and would walk around the quiet neighborhoods in manhattan staring into lobbies. i worked through so many nights that i drove myself to fainting from exhaustion one morning. i usually read quite a bit but i can't bring myself to open up a book right now. a kid pressing their hand up against the subway's closed door window as it's about to leave the station, a bunch of balloons caught on a streetlight, a huge scattered pile of sweetener packets on the sidewalk on sunday at dawn, an old lady quietly rearranging the flowers she bought in the takeaway paper on her doorstep of a busy street. developed a chronic cough where my lungs turned inside out, rain kept ruining all of my plans. every fourth person walking down bleecker street says hello to me. i kept getting messages from old and new and important and not-close friends that made me want to cry, more than usual. i wish that i could specify them so that i can read this back in a long time and remember them how sad and sweet they were but that's not how public blog posts work. a lot of people threw out mirrors this month.

Outbound

An editorial for Vaga Magazine

Styling by Jaclyn Bethany

Hair and Makeup by Caroline Baribeau 

Models are Barbara and Marcus at VNY, Pedro at Re:Quest, Martin and Henrietta at NEXT, Emil at DNA, Dana at Trump, Renata at Muse, Alisa at ELITE Direct

Assisted by Alexandra Esposito and Keyana Tahmaseb

Void if Torn

Promotional "Pretty" Collection photographs for Abigail Stewart FW2013

Styling by Abigail Stewart
Jewelry Styling/Design and Styling Assistance by Camille Davis
Hair and Makeup by Toby Klinger
Model is Ella Pearson

diary 14 (august 13)

\Most nights when I would come home there'd already be a party started at my place. Waking up while the rest of the world is asleep and sleeping while everyone wants to call. My neighborhood is very quiet before noon on Saturday and Sunday.   If I'm walking and I see a single window lit up oddly in a building I can stop and stare at it for as long as I want to. I keep falling asleep on the subway. 

Au Revoir Simone

The band Au Revoir Simone (Erika, Annie, and Heather) for Noctis Magazine


Styled by Jaclyn Bethany
Makeup by Caroline Baribeau and Brittany Romany
Hair by Marcos Diaz
Assisted by Alexis Kanter and Alexandrea Crawford

Party's Over

Photo Story for Noctis Magazine

Styling by Jaclyn Bethany
Hair and Makeup by Lauren Fillip and Ellen Guhin
Assisted by Ariona Adams and Carissa Gan
Models are Lillya @ Muse, Gabriella @ One, Kayte @ Major, Shaughnessy @ Frame, Lara @ MC2, and Ava Ford
Painting by Lydia Velichkovski

diary 13 (july 13)

I'm going to try to write down most things from this month for my own sake. I started off back in LA- stayed at the end of a sprawling suburb in a culdesac, had little party in the pool and around the bonfire and ate family dinners and stayed in a beautiful home with the kids' elementary school projects hung up all over the garage, got lost in antique stores. I went to Las Vegas where it was 117 degrees on the 4th of July, ended up in multiple strangers' hotel rooms, stayed out until it was dawn running back to the hotel. Snuck into the fancy hotel pools in a daze and my whole group fell asleep all afternoon in the pool chairs. Drove through the desert at night and stopped to see the stars in the middle of nowhere. Took a 27 hour 'scenic' train ride up the West Coast. In Oregon there was a meet up with over 50 photographers that met through flickr, we all camped on a farm together. We swam in the rivers and creeks, caught newts and jumped off cliffs, went in every wooded area. Everyone would break off and start shooting each other or explore or sit around and talk. Went to dunes and beaches and old towns I felt like I wasn't on earth hiking through them. Every third parking lot our group stopped at everyone would start singing and dancing and climbing onto cars, skateboarding and talking in huge groups while cars where trying to get through. We went to an abandoned ghost town and in one of the destroyed houses there was a room completely full of letters all over the floor- talking about love and travels and poetry and drawings- all to the same person, they kept every one of them and then they died but the letters written to them were still there, scattered everywhere. We played a game where we ran around the town in small groups or solo and tried to get from point A to point B without getting picked up by designated people in cars hunting for them. I kept injuring myself the whole trip and every night I would collapse way too late into my sleeping bag in my clothes. The last night we lit off the floating lanterns together and talked until too late. When I had to leave the next morning saying goodbye to everyone I actually started bawling which is the only time I remember ever doing that. I road tripped with 6 people I had just met at the meet up in a big minivan to the East Coast. We stopped for lazing around at rest areas and gas station parking lots. I love the road and the idea of small towns and the country and being in the middle of nowhere, I'm not used to feeling that. We drove all night to the Bad Lands to watch the sunrise there, I passed out from dehydration. We stayed one night with a photographer friend all in his little studio apartment, all seven of us. I stayed in a frat house in Ohio for two days with couches and hookahs everywhere and did frat things and felt like I had absolutely no responsibilities or direction. I took a long bus home to New York City, the top floor of a double decker with a front wrap-around window and stared out of it the entire time thinking of nothing. Coming back to the city I had a wonderful period of 48 hours where I was absolutely enamored again, before I settled back in. Slowly walking around my neighborhood. I adjusted to my apartment again, saw my friends who I had missed, went to too many events that are nothing like any other place I've been could have in the same way. Poetry readings in a tiny loft in the middle of a factory town, a huge music and photography and performance party with 5 bouncers in a huge church lit up all red, block parties and roof parties and backyard parties, having coffee with clients until closing time, running frantically through a thunder storm at dusk through a huge park with all of your camera equipment, having someone fall asleep next to you on the subway, sitting in a circle with a huge group of strangers having beers and pizza on a roof because they saw you and asked to join. I've found that I live my life in the past (missing things that were and won't come back) and the future (hoping and daydreaming about things that aren't anything yet) and not in the present still.