This is my studio for exploring my work. Consider these drafts.
It's been a long winter, but it's time to get our hands dirty again, friends. Find a farmer, they'll show you how.
My lovely friend here has so much to teach me: how to read the soil, when to watch the wind and how to hide the sun. How to nurture something tender and let it be to grow strong. I'll be a good student, darling.
P.S. I know it's been a little while since I've posted here and man am I sad about that. I have so much to show you, but keep an eye on my instagram if you want some previews of what's to come and what's on my mind.
There's nothing more I need to say.
You covered a plate with bubble-gum kisses for dessert. I smeared one with my fingers to make it real and you smiled to yourself and slid back behind my memory. Until next time I find you, new again, on the pier, or at the greenmarket, at the sea, once in Dallas. How did you get to Texas, my freshly baked beautiful Zelig? And where do you go when you leave my vision?
I can smell the cedary smokiness of your skin and taste the coconuts in your mouth. I can feel your curls twisting in my hands and your squeezy, breezy breasts oozing around my grasp. I could draw the tiny mosaics of your toes right this moment if someone asked me. But the whole of you lives tucked in between teenage dreams, fluid as mercury.
Text by SM Simões
A friend once said that to me and I hope she's right. It's my aspiration and it's how I try to approach life. The newness, the wonder of everything.