Free write November 19th 2014.

Sometimes I wonder what it is I truly desire to see as a photographer.
Do I shoot because I can or do I shoot because it is truly my passion?
I think I am more intrigued by the creation process than I am the finished product.
I am told I have an eye, but for some reason I cannot pinpoint my very own style.
I find myself focused on the technical aspects so much now I have lost sight of how glorious the human body truly is. The small hairs that grows so subtly out of every single pore spread across our delicate skin.
Composition, lighting, color.
What about me the meaning behind the image?
The intensity I breath should be felt in every image.
Why do I create?
Apparently to express my feelings.
But why do my feelings feel so lackluster?
Seems like only words can truly paint a picture of my devine being.

I think my images display my deepest insecurities.
I come alive through those I capture.
I have no flaws when I am shooting because through my eyes they are perfect.
I guess that’s why I often love the images they don’t particularly care for.
I appreciate the raw.
Maybe because I live my life in its most rawest form.
Unpainted nails and toes most men would snarl at.
Dirty sneakers and uncombed hair with my truest face always revealed to the world.



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Limited Restrictions

Featuring @MandaGabrielle_

My second official small video creation. Let me know what you guys think.

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Morning angst

Part 4 of my depression series.

Featuring a beautiful spirited friend of mine by the name of Zahreh @FuckBoySyndrome

Every morning I’d awake with an intense fear and anxiety that my whole day would result in nothing but negative emotions and fucked up situations. I’d spend the majority of my mornings sitting in the bathtub, crying, praying, and hoping for better days. I missed my bus so many times eventually school became optional. I almost always ended up right back in bed, no better than I was yesterday.

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Part 3 of the depression series featuring friend and my fellow 7, Barbie.

Growing up I spent a lot of time in the window, watching the world go bye. Wishing that I didn’t find so much comfort in hiding behind that glass. Wishing I could confidently be on the other side, living free from my demons. I could stay in the house for days at a time, with little desire to ever truly leave. Little desire to interact with people who couldn’t understand me, not sure they even cared to understand me. I had nothing in common with those on the other side of that glass. They were normal, they were free.
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Temporary pleasures.


Part 2 of my Depression series featuring a very important woman in my life by the name of Eryn Amel.

The purpose of this shoot was to display one of my temporary pain relievers, lust. That very moment you feel wanted and  in control of your actions and pleasure. That instant when all you can focus on is the jolt pulsating through every muscle in your body. All to leave you alone, disgusted, and still in the same dark place you started. Temporary pleasures.
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May First.

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Zoey Ka$h shot by me. Continuation of depression series.

It’s been 31 days since I’ve been back living in New York. My emotions have only been reaching extremes since my feet touched the concrete. Seasons are ending, new relationships are forming. With every loss a new opportunity presents itself. I have no idea what God has in store for me. Sometimes I feel as though I am blindly walking down my path, following a small amount of light ahead. Fear is quietly dormant. Fear not stemmed from being directed off of my path, but fear I will never reach the light.