Every single day I have a plethora of things that I want to write down. I have notebooks strewn all over my desk, and meanderings recorded on various apps and web note-taking tools. It may be haphazard, but I believe that the point is just to WRITE. So I try to remove the obstacles of being strict with myself on organization about what goes where, and what thoughts should be kept in which places. Sometimes this backfires, and I end up writing nothing at all because there is no focus (much like this blog, ha). But I’ll gladly accept this issue in exchange for the freedom that I feel.

Today I walked home, got into my robe, lit a candle, and made mint tea. I sat down and began to write, and organize, and think about some projects I want to start on.

As a Gemini (yeah, okay, tease me about believing in astrology but seriously sometimes it is spooky), I am flighty and easily distracted. I jump between projects a lot. a LOT. (You have no idea how many blog posts I write that go unpublished because of this). But I think in the end, the passion that comes with it all is what pushes me through to get the important things done.

In the middle of it all, as I curated playlists, reviewed some of my photos on flickr, created project plans for stuff (ugh, talk about the creative and business sides of me crashing into one!), I received a surprising email from a former professor of mine. He was requesting a photo of mine to use for a personal project. After all these years, I wondered why he reached out to me.

He originally requested that I send him something that already exists in my archives. I toyed with this idea, but I offered to shoot something specific for him if he preferred.

His response made my heart flip.

This is something I think isn’t shot in a shoot but is found in a mood, if you know what I mean, and I thought of you because you’re a connoisseur of moods.

Sometimes you go through life wondering if anyone understands your purpose, or what you strive to do. With art, with writing, with music, with your every day presence. I was floored that after all these years, M captured one of my core artistic intents in one simple sentence.

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