October 26, 2014

ombre du renard // shadow of the fox

been a while since i have been able to concentrate on some self-portraits.

honestly, i have been all over the place.

i enjoy speaking to you though; as if we are old friends and you remember to pick up where 
i last left off in between telling me to "hold on a sec'",  so you can grab your phone charger.

i will pretend our last conversation went over the explicit details of what's been going on
in my personal life for a couple of months leading up to these portraits.

imagine these portraits as that conversation.


i have felt vulnerable. exposed. captivated. 
i have felt like a secret.

i have felt the light and shadow sides of myself fight each other, constantly.



both talking over each other, escalating into shouting matches until
 my intuition conquers both logic and the heart.

i went deeper into the fox-hole. 

the one where i only commune with the dead and my dreams. 
the place where i only speak to my mirrored image. 

the place where i shun people and refuse help at all costs.

the one where i surround myself with the illusion of company. 

like show-room mannequins. masquerading as truths. 

it's a dance i do often, a dance i do well.

it needs only one partner, and always ends with a gift.

accepting the here. the now. my body. my mind. myself.

i love myself.

i love myself fully.

i love.

September 14, 2014

January 30, 2014

PSALM 23:4


"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, 
I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff shall comfort me."

A little something about this particular photo. I never posted it, because I lost it over time in the many files and folders of my computer. This was the last edit I ever made before my father passed away; and when I mean the very last, I mean up to the last week that he was still with us and lucid and having what we would refer to as 'a good day', before the months long decline before passing on. 

I wish I had known what my art, what the Muse really, was trying to communicate to me subconsciously as I was setting up the shot in their bedroom (because it was the only room with a wide enough white wall for me!) and eventually edited over cups of coffee. I can remember working on this during my father and I's epic DVD marathon watching of John Wayne and Johnny Depp.

Art remains to be my ultimate form of therapy. I can't stop. It helped me then and it's helping me now.

xo, fox