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| thank you |
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| the snakeskin is outgrown |
the sweetness is in the details, in what surrounds. i am specific with my home, the environment which i inhabit, stretch, reflect myself. my room is a space of control, one which i carefully shape to fit this love of color & pattern & the miniscule. the place i call "mine" also tends to be filled with the memories and creative gifts of other people that i love.
my private heart, captured in small, intimate photos & revealed in the most public of spaces:
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| owls remind me of moonshine |
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| salutations to the cosmic mother nature, durge smruta |
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| collecting tidbits |
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| sketches of billboards for a bigger art piece |
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| a selfick original |
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| photo taken in chicago, found in west virginia flea market |
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| stencil made by shoog from foto of me, veronica, & noam at march in dc |
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| i love you, flowers. |
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| everything is still. |
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| a gift painted by my longest friend ginaB, given to me over 10 years ago |
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| yerba mate, bombilla, thermos= the necessities |
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| sweet note from cara, sent amidst my trauma, reminding me to love myself |
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| box filled with fish bones, left on my doorstep by vik |
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| home. |
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| a homemade patch i made for someone i loved who left it all behind |
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| armadillo shell i found (with incredible delight) on the beach in nicaragua |
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| birds birds birds, on a box of tapes tapes tapes |
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| what is important in all good relationships |
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| meridians |
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| crows are oracles |
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| hangin with angela davis, stencil courtesy of vik |
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| west virginia flea market find, photo from chicago in the 70s |
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| a chip original |
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| a box of riches |
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| i coveted this for years before cara passed it along |
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| una bolsita para mi, gracias a las mujeres (y radym) |
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| something so wonderful about chainmail |
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| i can't just read one book at a time, i have to read nineteen |
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| patterns reveal secrets |
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