This is my rooftop in bed-stuy and I think it’s the location I lived in the longest while in nyc. My room was small and oddly shaped with a tiny window facing a vestibule. I remembering feeling lost there. I didn’t understand the industry, and I didn’t understand myself. I failed often, and I only kept going because I didn’t have a choice. I say all of these to possibly help people understand that these feelings and experiences are universal, and for some reason, that seems to help.