thirty

It feels tempting on birthdays, especially at the edge of a decade, to reminisce on achievements. All the big moments. Artistic achievements, professional milestones, countries visited. Quantification. But today I feel grateful for the small moments. Particularly ones where I felt connected to the person in front of me, or the land under my feet. There’s no easy and clean way to bring these memories back, because truthfully they are mostly forgotten (there were millions of them, after all). But those moments are what became my twenties, and it’s safe to say they will be thirties and my forties and so on. That’s all for now. I’m going to see some people that I love.

Kaitlyn

Kaitlyn. We met in the first class of college. Communications 101 with Karen Cristiano. 11 years ago. A few weeks later I complimented you on your music taste. A few years later, as we were about to graduate, you invited me to go shoot photos around Philly. Then that spring we drove out of town to an abandoned school where they sent girls who “misbehaved.” That place was so scary. Then we graduated, I moved to Alaska, you stayed in Philly, then grad school in DC. Then one day in 2020, weeks after being stuck in Baltimore during the pandemic, you reached out. We were both in dark places. We Facetimed and realized we were living 40 miles apart. We decided to hike together. Then another one. And another. Finally, someone other than my parents to hang out with during those uncertain times. I usually brought the snacks, you’d bring the joints, and we’d explore the DMV area. Whether it was sharing our stories, or shouting “SNACK TIME” out onto the Potomac River, those days were very special to me, as it felt like the world wasn’t falling apart. Later that summer you came up to Alaska and you got to experience everything that words would fall short explaining. Hiking, cooking, macarons, free salads, a deep trip, camping, you sleeping in the back of a pick up truck, art nights, and good company. Many cherished moments. Happy Birthday, Kaitlyn.

Chris

Chris. Our friendship began with photography and excuses to get outside— a thread that continues on today. In the summer of 2019 we hiked 100 miles together in 6 weeks. We stayed in tents together and picked up each other’s rolls at Keller’s. We ate pho, thai, and hot pot with Tiff, and hung out with Bessie and Winston. I watched you follow a deep resonance that was pulling you from the path that you were on. You heeded the call. You send me poetry. You’re a wonderful writer. You’re open to change, to growth, something I admire you for. You’ve always told it to me like it is. Honesty that seems hard to find. That second photo, you probably don’t even remember that day. But I do. You helped me work a lot of shit out. Thank you. Happy 30th Birthday, Chris. I’m grateful for you.

already loved

today

I woke up i forgot that i was already loved. 

I went to work and suffered with me- ness

I started every thought with “I”

I shopped for food and felt separate

when I got home I took a walk to the coast.

focusing my attention on the icy path

until I found my balance.

on the way home, I saw a shooting star.

In the middle of Anchorage at 5:23PM

How many others saw it too?

At home I rested

and then I cooked myself a loving meal,

fresh vegetables. 

I cleaned my kitchen.

and then sliced open a pomegranate. 

then I remembered, so I sat down to write this.

just making it up

I would like to cultivate a charisma of uncertainty, a charisma of admitting that you’re making it up as you go along. I remember this funny thing. One day when we were working on the Passengers album with U2 in Dublin, Pavarotti came into the studio because he was singing on one of those tracks. We’re in the main room saying, Should we put the chorus here, no, let’s double that section, da da da. Pavarotti’s standing in the control room watching what we’re doing. Then he says, “You are making it up!” I think it was the first time he realized that, at some point, music is made up!

Brian Eno