Posts

Tucson Is For Polishing The Soul.

Fuck The USD. Performative Reality Is The (Political) Currency.

Saturday Mornings Are When Ideas Breathe.

Never Let Function Override Fabulousness. And Nobody Invited Vegetables.

Mild Dissociation.

A Sacred Container For Thinking.

The Frequency Of Summer: Shifting From Aperol To Absence.

Deeply Unimpressed, In Very Good Lighting: A Manifesto.

Little Altars Of Joy.

Dream: A Closet Big Enough For A Couch Isn't Enough, I Guess.

I Turn Off The Lights So You Can Feel Your Ass. And Spine.