I will learn how to walk on air or grow wings.

.... and so it begins

homeless, car-less and not-so-care-free in la la land Los Angeles. I continue to ask myself what it means to be an artist. What sacrifices do I make, what am I willing to make and what do I want to make. How do I continue to stay creative when I'm so hard on myself, how can I maintain my photography when I fucking HATE business (as much as a cliche artist as I'm being, at least I know it).... and honestly, I'm so scared and so alive... not joking.... I have No idea where I will be from one week to another. Some clients commit, some cancel at the witching hour, them not knowing that was my rent money. Okay, so what, I move forward, never strait and don't look down... ever.

".... and you already know, yeah you already know, yeah you already know how this will end."

Writing this at 2:20am on a porch I cannot call my own, in Marina Del Ray, Los Angeles, chain smoking in my PJ's listening to my ipod, randomly crying for reasons I cannot tell the world. Not sure if any of this matters on the blogging market, and really don't care. I ask myself, why did I start a blog, was it to market myself as a professional photographer (well yes) or journal as an artist trying to live as she believes (which is how it ended up being) ... I have to admit, the latter is more precedent, something about being watched/listened to as I make mistakes, create adventures, love/laugh/cry and move forward is somehow more worth my time than making a dime... or simply vain and needing validation of my existence... shit, both are human and worth the time in the 21st century. I choose to pretend we all are "public" in some ridicules way; choose your vice as have I.

So LA... yes yes yes... I don't know where my head will lay in a week and I get the honor of building portrait clients in the sunny state of Callie. Life is brilliant when I have faith: I will learn how to walk on air or grow wings.