a beautiful celebration i was crying and crying. thank you @criticschoice @ccaapicinema for an afternoon I’ll always remember. my mom and dad held my hand and my jason held my hand and we got to celebrate so many powerful storytellers. so grateful for this community, thank you♥️♥️♥️
a beautiful celebration i was crying and crying. thank you @criticschoice @ccaapicinema for an afternoon I’ll always remember. my mom and dad held my hand and my jason held my hand and we got to celebrate so many powerful storytellers. so grateful for this community, thank you♥️♥️♥️
a beautiful celebration i was crying and crying. thank you @criticschoice @ccaapicinema for an afternoon I’ll always remember. my mom and dad held my hand and my jason held my hand and we got to celebrate so many powerful storytellers. so grateful for this community, thank you♥️♥️♥️
a beautiful celebration i was crying and crying. thank you @criticschoice @ccaapicinema for an afternoon I’ll always remember. my mom and dad held my hand and my jason held my hand and we got to celebrate so many powerful storytellers. so grateful for this community, thank you♥️♥️♥️
a beautiful celebration i was crying and crying. thank you @criticschoice @ccaapicinema for an afternoon I’ll always remember. my mom and dad held my hand and my jason held my hand and we got to celebrate so many powerful storytellers. so grateful for this community, thank you♥️♥️♥️
a beautiful celebration i was crying and crying. thank you @criticschoice @ccaapicinema for an afternoon I’ll always remember. my mom and dad held my hand and my jason held my hand and we got to celebrate so many powerful storytellers. so grateful for this community, thank you♥️♥️♥️
a beautiful celebration i was crying and crying. thank you @criticschoice @ccaapicinema for an afternoon I’ll always remember. my mom and dad held my hand and my jason held my hand and we got to celebrate so many powerful storytellers. so grateful for this community, thank you♥️♥️♥️
a beautiful celebration i was crying and crying. thank you @criticschoice @ccaapicinema for an afternoon I’ll always remember. my mom and dad held my hand and my jason held my hand and we got to celebrate so many powerful storytellers. so grateful for this community, thank you♥️♥️♥️
a beautiful celebration i was crying and crying. thank you @criticschoice @ccaapicinema for an afternoon I’ll always remember. my mom and dad held my hand and my jason held my hand and we got to celebrate so many powerful storytellers. so grateful for this community, thank you♥️♥️♥️
sweet blinks from thom browne in paris. thank you @blakeerik and @tyronmachhausen for straightening me out. and @nickroseonline for shooting the shots and sending me off with notes and drawings, always…. i love thom browne i love paris!!!!!! i love the last pic… suited embrace. Xx @thombrowne
sweet blinks from thom browne in paris. thank you @blakeerik and @tyronmachhausen for straightening me out. and @nickroseonline for shooting the shots and sending me off with notes and drawings, always…. i love thom browne i love paris!!!!!! i love the last pic… suited embrace. Xx @thombrowne
sweet blinks from thom browne in paris. thank you @blakeerik and @tyronmachhausen for straightening me out. and @nickroseonline for shooting the shots and sending me off with notes and drawings, always…. i love thom browne i love paris!!!!!! i love the last pic… suited embrace. Xx @thombrowne
sweet blinks from thom browne in paris. thank you @blakeerik and @tyronmachhausen for straightening me out. and @nickroseonline for shooting the shots and sending me off with notes and drawings, always…. i love thom browne i love paris!!!!!! i love the last pic… suited embrace. Xx @thombrowne
sweet blinks from thom browne in paris. thank you @blakeerik and @tyronmachhausen for straightening me out. and @nickroseonline for shooting the shots and sending me off with notes and drawings, always…. i love thom browne i love paris!!!!!! i love the last pic… suited embrace. Xx @thombrowne
sweet blinks from thom browne in paris. thank you @blakeerik and @tyronmachhausen for straightening me out. and @nickroseonline for shooting the shots and sending me off with notes and drawings, always…. i love thom browne i love paris!!!!!! i love the last pic… suited embrace. Xx @thombrowne
sweet blinks from thom browne in paris. thank you @blakeerik and @tyronmachhausen for straightening me out. and @nickroseonline for shooting the shots and sending me off with notes and drawings, always…. i love thom browne i love paris!!!!!! i love the last pic… suited embrace. Xx @thombrowne
sweet blinks from thom browne in paris. thank you @blakeerik and @tyronmachhausen for straightening me out. and @nickroseonline for shooting the shots and sending me off with notes and drawings, always…. i love thom browne i love paris!!!!!! i love the last pic… suited embrace. Xx @thombrowne
I recently bought my first medium-format camera. I’d never shot 120mm on my own before. I bought a pack of Ilford HP5. My first photos are of Ludlow Street and ‘Line of Sight’, Nick Rose’s one-day art show in New York City. The photos are riddled with technical errors. Hairs in the gate, film miswound, and somehow a double exposed frame. I’m fond of the photos. I’m fond of the adrenaline rush I get pulling the shutter of my new camera and I’m glad to have had it to document Nick’s work. Basement B on 7th Ave between Avenue Crack and Avenue Death was sterile. The concrete steps led into an echo chamber of portraiture. The first piece to catch my eye is a yearly planner, hanging by its binding from the ceiling with connected pages falling to the floor. A puddle of empty dates. My eyes naturally found the piece to its left, a medicine cabinet propped open with a spring, a stopwatch ticking on the mirror’s face, and white clay antlers balanced over either side. Looking into the mirror, you see either yourself or the piece on the wall behind you: a self-portrait of the artist. It’s distorted, but it’s clearly a photo of Nick. He’s holding the antlers to his head, charging at the camera. The photograph, printed on a long sheet of paper, drapes past the crook of the ground and bleeds into the room. Resting on its corner, a feather, waterlogged by a puddle of water. The last piece is a framed drawing titled ‘Wet Feather’. It’s simple, and despite the fluorescent light and the soft cream of paper, it’s screaming dark thoughts at me. ……. continued …..
I recently bought my first medium-format camera. I’d never shot 120mm on my own before. I bought a pack of Ilford HP5. My first photos are of Ludlow Street and ‘Line of Sight’, Nick Rose’s one-day art show in New York City. The photos are riddled with technical errors. Hairs in the gate, film miswound, and somehow a double exposed frame. I’m fond of the photos. I’m fond of the adrenaline rush I get pulling the shutter of my new camera and I’m glad to have had it to document Nick’s work. Basement B on 7th Ave between Avenue Crack and Avenue Death was sterile. The concrete steps led into an echo chamber of portraiture. The first piece to catch my eye is a yearly planner, hanging by its binding from the ceiling with connected pages falling to the floor. A puddle of empty dates. My eyes naturally found the piece to its left, a medicine cabinet propped open with a spring, a stopwatch ticking on the mirror’s face, and white clay antlers balanced over either side. Looking into the mirror, you see either yourself or the piece on the wall behind you: a self-portrait of the artist. It’s distorted, but it’s clearly a photo of Nick. He’s holding the antlers to his head, charging at the camera. The photograph, printed on a long sheet of paper, drapes past the crook of the ground and bleeds into the room. Resting on its corner, a feather, waterlogged by a puddle of water. The last piece is a framed drawing titled ‘Wet Feather’. It’s simple, and despite the fluorescent light and the soft cream of paper, it’s screaming dark thoughts at me. ……. continued …..
I recently bought my first medium-format camera. I’d never shot 120mm on my own before. I bought a pack of Ilford HP5. My first photos are of Ludlow Street and ‘Line of Sight’, Nick Rose’s one-day art show in New York City. The photos are riddled with technical errors. Hairs in the gate, film miswound, and somehow a double exposed frame. I’m fond of the photos. I’m fond of the adrenaline rush I get pulling the shutter of my new camera and I’m glad to have had it to document Nick’s work. Basement B on 7th Ave between Avenue Crack and Avenue Death was sterile. The concrete steps led into an echo chamber of portraiture. The first piece to catch my eye is a yearly planner, hanging by its binding from the ceiling with connected pages falling to the floor. A puddle of empty dates. My eyes naturally found the piece to its left, a medicine cabinet propped open with a spring, a stopwatch ticking on the mirror’s face, and white clay antlers balanced over either side. Looking into the mirror, you see either yourself or the piece on the wall behind you: a self-portrait of the artist. It’s distorted, but it’s clearly a photo of Nick. He’s holding the antlers to his head, charging at the camera. The photograph, printed on a long sheet of paper, drapes past the crook of the ground and bleeds into the room. Resting on its corner, a feather, waterlogged by a puddle of water. The last piece is a framed drawing titled ‘Wet Feather’. It’s simple, and despite the fluorescent light and the soft cream of paper, it’s screaming dark thoughts at me. ……. continued …..
I recently bought my first medium-format camera. I’d never shot 120mm on my own before. I bought a pack of Ilford HP5. My first photos are of Ludlow Street and ‘Line of Sight’, Nick Rose’s one-day art show in New York City. The photos are riddled with technical errors. Hairs in the gate, film miswound, and somehow a double exposed frame. I’m fond of the photos. I’m fond of the adrenaline rush I get pulling the shutter of my new camera and I’m glad to have had it to document Nick’s work. Basement B on 7th Ave between Avenue Crack and Avenue Death was sterile. The concrete steps led into an echo chamber of portraiture. The first piece to catch my eye is a yearly planner, hanging by its binding from the ceiling with connected pages falling to the floor. A puddle of empty dates. My eyes naturally found the piece to its left, a medicine cabinet propped open with a spring, a stopwatch ticking on the mirror’s face, and white clay antlers balanced over either side. Looking into the mirror, you see either yourself or the piece on the wall behind you: a self-portrait of the artist. It’s distorted, but it’s clearly a photo of Nick. He’s holding the antlers to his head, charging at the camera. The photograph, printed on a long sheet of paper, drapes past the crook of the ground and bleeds into the room. Resting on its corner, a feather, waterlogged by a puddle of water. The last piece is a framed drawing titled ‘Wet Feather’. It’s simple, and despite the fluorescent light and the soft cream of paper, it’s screaming dark thoughts at me. ……. continued …..
some wonderland takes and outtakes from a few ago 🫧🪷⭐️
some wonderland takes and outtakes from a few ago 🫧🪷⭐️
some wonderland takes and outtakes from a few ago 🫧🪷⭐️
