My aunt passed along a bike that had been sitting in her garage for 5 years. I don’t own a car so having a new form of transportation felt liberating. I rode out to West Haven Beach with a banana, a bottle of water, and my journal. On my way, I passed a section of boarded-up houses and commercial buildings; the future home of a shopping center. I preferred the industrial and abandoned feel, the graffiti and calls for self-reflection, it seemed to be the perfect breeding ground for art.
Which reminds me, my first music video was shot in an abandoned warehouse. With the building now torn down, I like to think my decision to trespass was necessary for its preservation. Sometimes, I feel the same as that building waiting to be deconstructed and made a new, but holding on, hoping someone will put those letters and images to good use. Other times, I feel like a bike sitting in a garage, just waiting to be re-discovered, appreciated in another home.