Sunrise, Sunset The sun was coming up, burning through the haze over the Hollywood Hills, turning the sky into a bruised palette of pinks and purples. I was awake because I hadn’t slept. Again. I sat on the balcony of the apartment I never really decorated, smoking a cigarette that tasted like chemicals, watching the…
read moreBehind every great artist is a cat who believes they could do better. Mine? A diva named Pixel, whose primary job is to knock over carefully arranged objects and then look offended that they weren’t stacked sturdier.
read moreStill-life photography is the moody teenager of the art world: misunderstood, brooding, and convinced it’s too deep for you.
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