The past six months has been a learning experience. I’ve danced alone in nightclubs, not caring for sex or touch, just wanting to experience the music, to let it wash over me along with sweat and loose hair. I’ve looked into deep pairs of eyes and seen many things: regret, happiness, lust, despair, confusion and serenity. I’ve walked along a beach with my eyes closed, the better to feel the wind on my face. I’ve found music and movies to move me. I’ve found people and places to revolt me. I’ve laughed until I thought my heart might fail. I recently cried all the water out of my body kneeling by the grave of my grandparents, mud covering my knees, my coat… my hands… mud clumped together between the prongs of a gardening fork. In March 2011, I told them I was going to make it. November 2014 I re-iterated that promise; to make it and to be a better person, in whichever order those two goals come naturally.
Deep down, behind the stories and the photos, is a desire to be something quite basic – a decent human being.