Little bits of memory seep in like the days sitting on floors in Bed-Stuy. Paints on the carpet, long nights, and fresh coffee. Those were the days we had schooling all day, and full time jobs after. Those were the days of all nighters and caffeine pills, and projects due early. We never slept, music 24/7, eyes glazed and glassy. I used to idealize those days. Our poverty never got to us, until it did. We had dreams and dreams were always more important. We were Kings and Queens of concrete. - Journal entry of unknown date
Wow, my sister....I'm really feeling all that you've said here. Thank you for putting a voice to such internal nuances of emotions and experiences like a deep yearning for beauty, for creativity, sensing the potential abundance of our dreams pulling us step by step through the habit of scarcity into something more...thank you for leaving me feeling inspired.
Wow, my sister....I'm really feeling all that you've said here. Thank you for putting a voice to such internal nuances of emotions and experiences like a deep yearning for beauty, for creativity, sensing the potential abundance of our dreams pulling us step by step through the habit of scarcity into something more...thank you for leaving me feeling inspired.
This made me cry in the best possible way. Thank you for sharing.
Thank you son much. That means a lot to me. <3
Powerful piece, Katelan.
Thank you so much <3