Like All Things.
These pages are snippets from my journals over the years, each one serving as poetry if you’ll let it. A collection of love letters, a deeply affectionate nod to San Francisco, and seeing myself through the tangible, all while feeling immense intimacy through it all. Even in the most prosaic of moments, I find myself allured by its mundanity, its ambiguous poetry, when it is simply just striving to exist.
These pages are snippets from my journals over the years, each one serving as poetry if you’ll let it. A collection of love letters, a deeply affectionate nod to San Francisco, and seeing myself through the tangible, all while feeling immense intimacy through it all. Even in the most prosaic of moments, I find myself allured by its mundanity, its ambiguous poetry, when it is simply just striving to exist.
These pages are snippets from my journals over the years, each one serving as poetry if you’ll let it. A collection of love letters, a deeply affectionate nod to San Francisco, and seeing myself through the tangible, all while feeling immense intimacy through it all. Even in the most prosaic of moments, I find myself allured by its mundanity, its ambiguous poetry, when it is simply just striving to exist.