there have been a lot of moments this year. I wanna share. these ones are miscellaneous
there have been a lot of moments this year. I wanna share. these ones are miscellaneous
there have been a lot of moments this year. I wanna share. these ones are miscellaneous
there have been a lot of moments this year. I wanna share. these ones are miscellaneous
there have been a lot of moments this year. I wanna share. these ones are miscellaneous
there have been a lot of moments this year. I wanna share. these ones are miscellaneous
there have been a lot of moments this year. I wanna share. these ones are miscellaneous
there have been a lot of moments this year. I wanna share. these ones are miscellaneous
there have been a lot of moments this year. I wanna share. these ones are miscellaneous
happy birthday Jeff ✨ Bear with me, I’ve never been a public griever, and have a hard time sharing fragile feelings with strangers. Meanwhile I’ve thought about him every day for the past six months. Ok see at the beginning of the year, I lost a dear friend, cherished collaborator and mentor in Jeff Baena. It’s been very hard and heavy, and a lot of people lost him, because he was like the nucleus of this whole Jeff universe. I’ve discovered the stages of grief aren’t linear; they’re like space stations I’ve docked at, in between periods of floating. My hope is they eventually feel more like satellites— always orbiting, often in view, but not a place to live. But today on his birthday, I want you to know a few things about Jeff— he was generous. Warm while principled. Intentional with a casual lilt. Usually right about stuff we have no way of knowing about. Spirited in debate. His standard for quality was in the ingredients— just like his casts. He had a menagerie of players and games, and it was a real collection. He believed in me. I feel really proud to be able to say that. Jeff was a rare person in the world who gave me the dignity of introducing myself, of being taken at my present. And I liked who he saw. Like good friendship helps you love yourself, good collaboration gives you the chance to be the best evolution of yourself. From the moment we met, Jeff was an active person in my life- personally and professionally. He somehow saw me, trusted me, and vouched for me from jump. He brought me to my first film festival, after putting me in his and Alison Brie’s film Horse Girl, a film largely improvised based on an outline— which is a process he was accustomed to working but was a big leap for me. He never doubted me. During the pandemic, his zoom game nights were a periscope to community, and our lil families became close. Then he put me in his next film, and brought me to my second film festival run. Also to some of the best restaurants we’ve ever been to, to the most beautiful places I’ve worked, to the most enriching relationships, to a point of freedom from the versions of “Debby Ryan” I thought I should be. cont’d below:
happy birthday Jeff ✨ Bear with me, I’ve never been a public griever, and have a hard time sharing fragile feelings with strangers. Meanwhile I’ve thought about him every day for the past six months. Ok see at the beginning of the year, I lost a dear friend, cherished collaborator and mentor in Jeff Baena. It’s been very hard and heavy, and a lot of people lost him, because he was like the nucleus of this whole Jeff universe. I’ve discovered the stages of grief aren’t linear; they’re like space stations I’ve docked at, in between periods of floating. My hope is they eventually feel more like satellites— always orbiting, often in view, but not a place to live. But today on his birthday, I want you to know a few things about Jeff— he was generous. Warm while principled. Intentional with a casual lilt. Usually right about stuff we have no way of knowing about. Spirited in debate. His standard for quality was in the ingredients— just like his casts. He had a menagerie of players and games, and it was a real collection. He believed in me. I feel really proud to be able to say that. Jeff was a rare person in the world who gave me the dignity of introducing myself, of being taken at my present. And I liked who he saw. Like good friendship helps you love yourself, good collaboration gives you the chance to be the best evolution of yourself. From the moment we met, Jeff was an active person in my life- personally and professionally. He somehow saw me, trusted me, and vouched for me from jump. He brought me to my first film festival, after putting me in his and Alison Brie’s film Horse Girl, a film largely improvised based on an outline— which is a process he was accustomed to working but was a big leap for me. He never doubted me. During the pandemic, his zoom game nights were a periscope to community, and our lil families became close. Then he put me in his next film, and brought me to my second film festival run. Also to some of the best restaurants we’ve ever been to, to the most beautiful places I’ve worked, to the most enriching relationships, to a point of freedom from the versions of “Debby Ryan” I thought I should be. cont’d below:
happy birthday Jeff ✨ Bear with me, I’ve never been a public griever, and have a hard time sharing fragile feelings with strangers. Meanwhile I’ve thought about him every day for the past six months. Ok see at the beginning of the year, I lost a dear friend, cherished collaborator and mentor in Jeff Baena. It’s been very hard and heavy, and a lot of people lost him, because he was like the nucleus of this whole Jeff universe. I’ve discovered the stages of grief aren’t linear; they’re like space stations I’ve docked at, in between periods of floating. My hope is they eventually feel more like satellites— always orbiting, often in view, but not a place to live. But today on his birthday, I want you to know a few things about Jeff— he was generous. Warm while principled. Intentional with a casual lilt. Usually right about stuff we have no way of knowing about. Spirited in debate. His standard for quality was in the ingredients— just like his casts. He had a menagerie of players and games, and it was a real collection. He believed in me. I feel really proud to be able to say that. Jeff was a rare person in the world who gave me the dignity of introducing myself, of being taken at my present. And I liked who he saw. Like good friendship helps you love yourself, good collaboration gives you the chance to be the best evolution of yourself. From the moment we met, Jeff was an active person in my life- personally and professionally. He somehow saw me, trusted me, and vouched for me from jump. He brought me to my first film festival, after putting me in his and Alison Brie’s film Horse Girl, a film largely improvised based on an outline— which is a process he was accustomed to working but was a big leap for me. He never doubted me. During the pandemic, his zoom game nights were a periscope to community, and our lil families became close. Then he put me in his next film, and brought me to my second film festival run. Also to some of the best restaurants we’ve ever been to, to the most beautiful places I’ve worked, to the most enriching relationships, to a point of freedom from the versions of “Debby Ryan” I thought I should be. cont’d below:
happy birthday Jeff ✨ Bear with me, I’ve never been a public griever, and have a hard time sharing fragile feelings with strangers. Meanwhile I’ve thought about him every day for the past six months. Ok see at the beginning of the year, I lost a dear friend, cherished collaborator and mentor in Jeff Baena. It’s been very hard and heavy, and a lot of people lost him, because he was like the nucleus of this whole Jeff universe. I’ve discovered the stages of grief aren’t linear; they’re like space stations I’ve docked at, in between periods of floating. My hope is they eventually feel more like satellites— always orbiting, often in view, but not a place to live. But today on his birthday, I want you to know a few things about Jeff— he was generous. Warm while principled. Intentional with a casual lilt. Usually right about stuff we have no way of knowing about. Spirited in debate. His standard for quality was in the ingredients— just like his casts. He had a menagerie of players and games, and it was a real collection. He believed in me. I feel really proud to be able to say that. Jeff was a rare person in the world who gave me the dignity of introducing myself, of being taken at my present. And I liked who he saw. Like good friendship helps you love yourself, good collaboration gives you the chance to be the best evolution of yourself. From the moment we met, Jeff was an active person in my life- personally and professionally. He somehow saw me, trusted me, and vouched for me from jump. He brought me to my first film festival, after putting me in his and Alison Brie’s film Horse Girl, a film largely improvised based on an outline— which is a process he was accustomed to working but was a big leap for me. He never doubted me. During the pandemic, his zoom game nights were a periscope to community, and our lil families became close. Then he put me in his next film, and brought me to my second film festival run. Also to some of the best restaurants we’ve ever been to, to the most beautiful places I’ve worked, to the most enriching relationships, to a point of freedom from the versions of “Debby Ryan” I thought I should be. cont’d below:
happy birthday Jeff ✨ Bear with me, I’ve never been a public griever, and have a hard time sharing fragile feelings with strangers. Meanwhile I’ve thought about him every day for the past six months. Ok see at the beginning of the year, I lost a dear friend, cherished collaborator and mentor in Jeff Baena. It’s been very hard and heavy, and a lot of people lost him, because he was like the nucleus of this whole Jeff universe. I’ve discovered the stages of grief aren’t linear; they’re like space stations I’ve docked at, in between periods of floating. My hope is they eventually feel more like satellites— always orbiting, often in view, but not a place to live. But today on his birthday, I want you to know a few things about Jeff— he was generous. Warm while principled. Intentional with a casual lilt. Usually right about stuff we have no way of knowing about. Spirited in debate. His standard for quality was in the ingredients— just like his casts. He had a menagerie of players and games, and it was a real collection. He believed in me. I feel really proud to be able to say that. Jeff was a rare person in the world who gave me the dignity of introducing myself, of being taken at my present. And I liked who he saw. Like good friendship helps you love yourself, good collaboration gives you the chance to be the best evolution of yourself. From the moment we met, Jeff was an active person in my life- personally and professionally. He somehow saw me, trusted me, and vouched for me from jump. He brought me to my first film festival, after putting me in his and Alison Brie’s film Horse Girl, a film largely improvised based on an outline— which is a process he was accustomed to working but was a big leap for me. He never doubted me. During the pandemic, his zoom game nights were a periscope to community, and our lil families became close. Then he put me in his next film, and brought me to my second film festival run. Also to some of the best restaurants we’ve ever been to, to the most beautiful places I’ve worked, to the most enriching relationships, to a point of freedom from the versions of “Debby Ryan” I thought I should be. cont’d below:
happy birthday Jeff ✨ Bear with me, I’ve never been a public griever, and have a hard time sharing fragile feelings with strangers. Meanwhile I’ve thought about him every day for the past six months. Ok see at the beginning of the year, I lost a dear friend, cherished collaborator and mentor in Jeff Baena. It’s been very hard and heavy, and a lot of people lost him, because he was like the nucleus of this whole Jeff universe. I’ve discovered the stages of grief aren’t linear; they’re like space stations I’ve docked at, in between periods of floating. My hope is they eventually feel more like satellites— always orbiting, often in view, but not a place to live. But today on his birthday, I want you to know a few things about Jeff— he was generous. Warm while principled. Intentional with a casual lilt. Usually right about stuff we have no way of knowing about. Spirited in debate. His standard for quality was in the ingredients— just like his casts. He had a menagerie of players and games, and it was a real collection. He believed in me. I feel really proud to be able to say that. Jeff was a rare person in the world who gave me the dignity of introducing myself, of being taken at my present. And I liked who he saw. Like good friendship helps you love yourself, good collaboration gives you the chance to be the best evolution of yourself. From the moment we met, Jeff was an active person in my life- personally and professionally. He somehow saw me, trusted me, and vouched for me from jump. He brought me to my first film festival, after putting me in his and Alison Brie’s film Horse Girl, a film largely improvised based on an outline— which is a process he was accustomed to working but was a big leap for me. He never doubted me. During the pandemic, his zoom game nights were a periscope to community, and our lil families became close. Then he put me in his next film, and brought me to my second film festival run. Also to some of the best restaurants we’ve ever been to, to the most beautiful places I’ve worked, to the most enriching relationships, to a point of freedom from the versions of “Debby Ryan” I thought I should be. cont’d below:
happy birthday Jeff ✨ Bear with me, I’ve never been a public griever, and have a hard time sharing fragile feelings with strangers. Meanwhile I’ve thought about him every day for the past six months. Ok see at the beginning of the year, I lost a dear friend, cherished collaborator and mentor in Jeff Baena. It’s been very hard and heavy, and a lot of people lost him, because he was like the nucleus of this whole Jeff universe. I’ve discovered the stages of grief aren’t linear; they’re like space stations I’ve docked at, in between periods of floating. My hope is they eventually feel more like satellites— always orbiting, often in view, but not a place to live. But today on his birthday, I want you to know a few things about Jeff— he was generous. Warm while principled. Intentional with a casual lilt. Usually right about stuff we have no way of knowing about. Spirited in debate. His standard for quality was in the ingredients— just like his casts. He had a menagerie of players and games, and it was a real collection. He believed in me. I feel really proud to be able to say that. Jeff was a rare person in the world who gave me the dignity of introducing myself, of being taken at my present. And I liked who he saw. Like good friendship helps you love yourself, good collaboration gives you the chance to be the best evolution of yourself. From the moment we met, Jeff was an active person in my life- personally and professionally. He somehow saw me, trusted me, and vouched for me from jump. He brought me to my first film festival, after putting me in his and Alison Brie’s film Horse Girl, a film largely improvised based on an outline— which is a process he was accustomed to working but was a big leap for me. He never doubted me. During the pandemic, his zoom game nights were a periscope to community, and our lil families became close. Then he put me in his next film, and brought me to my second film festival run. Also to some of the best restaurants we’ve ever been to, to the most beautiful places I’ve worked, to the most enriching relationships, to a point of freedom from the versions of “Debby Ryan” I thought I should be. cont’d below:
happy birthday Jeff ✨ Bear with me, I’ve never been a public griever, and have a hard time sharing fragile feelings with strangers. Meanwhile I’ve thought about him every day for the past six months. Ok see at the beginning of the year, I lost a dear friend, cherished collaborator and mentor in Jeff Baena. It’s been very hard and heavy, and a lot of people lost him, because he was like the nucleus of this whole Jeff universe. I’ve discovered the stages of grief aren’t linear; they’re like space stations I’ve docked at, in between periods of floating. My hope is they eventually feel more like satellites— always orbiting, often in view, but not a place to live. But today on his birthday, I want you to know a few things about Jeff— he was generous. Warm while principled. Intentional with a casual lilt. Usually right about stuff we have no way of knowing about. Spirited in debate. His standard for quality was in the ingredients— just like his casts. He had a menagerie of players and games, and it was a real collection. He believed in me. I feel really proud to be able to say that. Jeff was a rare person in the world who gave me the dignity of introducing myself, of being taken at my present. And I liked who he saw. Like good friendship helps you love yourself, good collaboration gives you the chance to be the best evolution of yourself. From the moment we met, Jeff was an active person in my life- personally and professionally. He somehow saw me, trusted me, and vouched for me from jump. He brought me to my first film festival, after putting me in his and Alison Brie’s film Horse Girl, a film largely improvised based on an outline— which is a process he was accustomed to working but was a big leap for me. He never doubted me. During the pandemic, his zoom game nights were a periscope to community, and our lil families became close. Then he put me in his next film, and brought me to my second film festival run. Also to some of the best restaurants we’ve ever been to, to the most beautiful places I’ve worked, to the most enriching relationships, to a point of freedom from the versions of “Debby Ryan” I thought I should be. cont’d below:
happy birthday Jeff ✨ Bear with me, I’ve never been a public griever, and have a hard time sharing fragile feelings with strangers. Meanwhile I’ve thought about him every day for the past six months. Ok see at the beginning of the year, I lost a dear friend, cherished collaborator and mentor in Jeff Baena. It’s been very hard and heavy, and a lot of people lost him, because he was like the nucleus of this whole Jeff universe. I’ve discovered the stages of grief aren’t linear; they’re like space stations I’ve docked at, in between periods of floating. My hope is they eventually feel more like satellites— always orbiting, often in view, but not a place to live. But today on his birthday, I want you to know a few things about Jeff— he was generous. Warm while principled. Intentional with a casual lilt. Usually right about stuff we have no way of knowing about. Spirited in debate. His standard for quality was in the ingredients— just like his casts. He had a menagerie of players and games, and it was a real collection. He believed in me. I feel really proud to be able to say that. Jeff was a rare person in the world who gave me the dignity of introducing myself, of being taken at my present. And I liked who he saw. Like good friendship helps you love yourself, good collaboration gives you the chance to be the best evolution of yourself. From the moment we met, Jeff was an active person in my life- personally and professionally. He somehow saw me, trusted me, and vouched for me from jump. He brought me to my first film festival, after putting me in his and Alison Brie’s film Horse Girl, a film largely improvised based on an outline— which is a process he was accustomed to working but was a big leap for me. He never doubted me. During the pandemic, his zoom game nights were a periscope to community, and our lil families became close. Then he put me in his next film, and brought me to my second film festival run. Also to some of the best restaurants we’ve ever been to, to the most beautiful places I’ve worked, to the most enriching relationships, to a point of freedom from the versions of “Debby Ryan” I thought I should be. cont’d below:
happy birthday Jeff ✨ Bear with me, I’ve never been a public griever, and have a hard time sharing fragile feelings with strangers. Meanwhile I’ve thought about him every day for the past six months. Ok see at the beginning of the year, I lost a dear friend, cherished collaborator and mentor in Jeff Baena. It’s been very hard and heavy, and a lot of people lost him, because he was like the nucleus of this whole Jeff universe. I’ve discovered the stages of grief aren’t linear; they’re like space stations I’ve docked at, in between periods of floating. My hope is they eventually feel more like satellites— always orbiting, often in view, but not a place to live. But today on his birthday, I want you to know a few things about Jeff— he was generous. Warm while principled. Intentional with a casual lilt. Usually right about stuff we have no way of knowing about. Spirited in debate. His standard for quality was in the ingredients— just like his casts. He had a menagerie of players and games, and it was a real collection. He believed in me. I feel really proud to be able to say that. Jeff was a rare person in the world who gave me the dignity of introducing myself, of being taken at my present. And I liked who he saw. Like good friendship helps you love yourself, good collaboration gives you the chance to be the best evolution of yourself. From the moment we met, Jeff was an active person in my life- personally and professionally. He somehow saw me, trusted me, and vouched for me from jump. He brought me to my first film festival, after putting me in his and Alison Brie’s film Horse Girl, a film largely improvised based on an outline— which is a process he was accustomed to working but was a big leap for me. He never doubted me. During the pandemic, his zoom game nights were a periscope to community, and our lil families became close. Then he put me in his next film, and brought me to my second film festival run. Also to some of the best restaurants we’ve ever been to, to the most beautiful places I’ve worked, to the most enriching relationships, to a point of freedom from the versions of “Debby Ryan” I thought I should be. cont’d below:
