Raise Hell-O

Sometimes we have to get down and dirty. Feel the wickedness that is bitterly beautiful. The lose of love is knowing. The goodbye that hello’ed a once fearful ‘no’. Sometimes I want to run so fast into the night. To places thoughts cannot follow. Standing in a doorway. Impatient with a desire to glow.

Closed eyes rhythm. Gasping letters that trample a key. Touch the face of the complacency. Pain powers. Catch her and taste the trees that crackle between foot blows. Don’t dance to a robotic bridge. Breath indulgences that coffee wine that rattles.

Winds take heart with a draft that cannot half. Grab arms that fold out. Look at her right when she says, let go. STOP and boldly know. This you, me and a fabulous dream. Take a seat we are are bound forever to not.

Work Entrance

Working for a 40-year old garment manufacturing based here in my darling Baltimore, Maryland. 

Work Tools

My work tools. Love the worn down nature and the garment industry lives that have passed onto these hands. 


Garment inspection table. 

Factory Office

My desk on the far right corner in our product development room. 



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