wish you were here. anyway.
08
Some photographs aren't about where you were.
They're about the person you almost texted.
The one who would've understood why the light looked like that.
Why an old laundromat felt beautiful.
Why a synthesizer backstage somehow looked like hope.
Why a diner window deserved its own movie moment.
Not just romance.
A creative accomplice.
The friend who notices the same shadows.
The bandmate who points out the perfect synth.
I think about this a lot … Wish you were here…
People think "wish you were here" is about distance.
Sometimes it's about time.
Sometimes it's about people who slowly become memories.
Sometimes it's about a version of yourself that would've stopped to look.
You just have to notice it.
The restaurant after midnight.
The photo booth no one uses anymore.
The bookstore cart.
The vinyl on the side of the street.
The old television in a storefront.
The muscle cars lined up like they were waiting for a director to call action.
The little things that become part of your visual vocabulary before you even realize it.
It's about collecting evidence that ordinary life has always been cinematic.
Maybe that's what being an artist really is.
Not inventing a point of view.
Collecting one.
One moment at a time.
Some people leave your life.
The feeling doesn't. The memory doesn’t.
Every now and then you see something that still makes you think…
"Wish you were here."
Anyway.
“We become who we are through thousands of tiny moments.”
The archive continues on Instagram, whenever the mood hits ♡
(usually after midnight)
