when i say some people speak to my inner voice, or are able to bring it out and those are really profound moments and interactions, this is the voice they’re speaking to, here it resides this hanging organ reminds me of the tiktok where a bunch of friends wear sunglasses and act as if they’re in a music booth, swinging the flashlights on their phone, holding up a random/significant object above the person in the spotlight, as a mic i tell my friends, i always confuse the profoundness of these interactions with love, because we’re raised to attach, expect and believe in romance as the biggest solace and space for shared intimacy and inspiration. but I’ve recently learned it’s mostly about writing, it is about what i am able to write after the interaction, it also is about love, always, about holding space for an other, shining light on darkness, close listening and friendship all this to say, my parents are moving out of the first house we moved into when we came to nl, some of the walls look much like these leonor fini’s none of this moving out is very poetic or beautiful. lots of dust, piles, every crack tells a story kind of thing and i am not well gifted with the skill of brushing over or brushing off. instead my eyes request meaning, answers and narrative. i’m in love with this painting, that’s all. or: the painting is offering me friendship. or: the painting is a solace. or: i see myself, or: i am writing a lot this summer