back in 2019, I started photographing events in the diy scenes of los angeles. in october, my good friends from sleezehog put on a halloween-themed anniversary show—sponsored by pabst blue ribbon—with music from polartropica (as elo), guppy (as devo), and raddicus finch (as the muffs) on 10/25/2019. zoe designed the poster and would vend at the show alongside a kermit the frog plushie she hung by the arms off a clothing rack. poor guy, it ain't easy being green. that whole event was a high though. it made me so stoked for what 2020 had in store.
then the fucking pandemic happened. we all got fucked. lost a year of momentum and tried to figure out 2021 post-disarray. I was going around my network to get the @home archive going again, zoe said she was down for it so we got around to it for the first time on 9/7/2021. she lived in the walton at the time with the stereotypical amount of roommates one would have as an art student in los angeles. they'd put on shows and parties—all of which I never attended even when I was pretty close by during my cat-sitting stints for taylor. do I still have fomo? nah. I got my fill of a julie house show later in 2023 at the ardmore (I only went because zoe and hayls were selling there and let me in for free, I'd rather be sleeping than having to pay).
we would keep in touch. I'd go to some gallery shows, fashion shows, etc. whatever it was that zoe was a part of that felt special—I'd take my camera and document it for the sake of having proof of living or because it was a gig that she or someone else hired me for. I love being surrounded by peers in the art world putting together exciting human experiences. watching their journeys, bookmarking their growth! I fuck with our shared histories and I'm so blessed to be friends with them all and give the future kids the chance to look back at how we got around just as we would do when we'd look at ancient millennials on tumblr. I'm actually leaning into that era as if I was in it during its prime. even started listening to sky ferreira the beginning of this year.​​​​​​​

this isn't zoe's home. this is her studio in la where we tried to cover every possible place of concrete and metal with her flesh + fabric. is it cheating for the series? I could call it some kind of "home away from home" for justification but honestly fuck it? we can do whatever we want, this is my archive after all. it isn't the first time it wasn't someone's actual home. let me run through the list. avery? not her home. alex? the second half of that shoot was in his arts district studio. remy's was in the chateau marmont of all places in some sterile room that lacked any kind of charm. daniel's was technically in his old place above a friend's studio but he had already moved out by the time we shot so it wasn't his place at all technically.
the point is, eh, who cares?
and beyond that—zoe's out here spending god knows how much time finishing up pieces. if it ain't the clothing, it's the canvas of mixed-material and internet brainrot. if it isn't the concrete/epoxy/whatever amalgamation of sculptures being prepped for gallery display, its the different experimentations that'll fruit something beautiful or fester emotional destitution. if you give so much of yourself squeezed between the same six facets, you can allow yourself to only see emptiness beyond it.
the day of the shoot. 5/19/2024. I got an uber to the studio from gianna's place (I had crashed there the night before after going to a private screening for taylor's short film at junior high). zoe led me up steep stairs and liminal hallways to get to her studio. we took these edibles that were sorta like listerine strips but candy flavored—zoe didn't even take 1/4th of it, I took the rest and wound up getting a little too high to focus on anything during our session. if you think I yap when sober, me under the influence is embarrassingly incessant.
despite my lack of judgement, it was pretty good. we took amazing photos but the conversation was sincere. because of the way we all act on the internet, I struggle viewing people beyond the moments of irony that gets presented online. everything feels like some kind of bit we live in 24/7. life is a joke because that's just how we cope in this fascistic digital age. I don't know if it was the thc but I could finally interact with zoe that day without that weird buffer. without the embarrassment that comes with being open. how sad our fears are feeling. being on guard isn't fun anymore. it's time to be vulnerable, and if we get hurt then whatever, we'll bleed. 
afterwards, we got dumplings. 

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