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On “SIXTEENTH” by Zak Krevitt:

Somewhere in the hazy month that was October of 2011, in a six-floor walkup in Brooklyn, I was lounging on a futon in the living room of my incredibly talented photographer/videographer/artist/friend, Zak Krevitt

We were drinking and he was showing me his recent photo and video work, all involving the use of a projector to create hazy, abstract images in an effort to explore duplicity. I was inspired, or drunk, or both.

I had come to NYC to meet with potential east coast agencies and had ditched all of my meetings. I hadn’t been photographed once since I stepped off the plane. I told Zak I wanted to be a part of his project.

We got drunk. We talked about duplicity and escapism. We talked about my sixteenth birthday, my relationship with my father, and his suicide seven days prior to my aforementioned birthday. 

"I have an idea."

I took off my shirt.

I danced.

I smoked.

I cried.