This is where I used to write poems and rap lyrics when I was living in England.
"White van phobia" is a line I made up to describe Elliott Smith's paranoia toward the end of his life. He was convinced that he was being followed by the FBI, driving white vans, all over Los Angeles.
Cute wheat pasted owl on a trash can in San Francisco.
"Some Girl," I think this says?
My friend Elle and I get together to write lyrics and chill.
Cafe Soleil in Lower Haight is one of our haunts. Great happy hour wines!
So pea-cocky.
Rust attracts me.
On the back of a converted U-Haul truck.
This guy tried to break in, but only his top half made it over.
Door fixtures are also extremely attractive to me.
If Gumby were a plant, he'd be this Mexican cactus.
City Hall after dark. It was raining, but I like to think of the rain drops that made it into the shot as "orbs."
I know they aren't ghosts.
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