The only memories I have left from the nights at the Chelsea Hotel, are your lips touching mine in a photobooth. Waking up to a pack of parliaments adjacent to the nightstand, and beginning the day on the fire escape, laying a blanket down and drinking cheap coffee. It wasn't the time of documenting everything, so I have nothing. No visual representations to show what a creative life we lived, how young I was, or how much I cared.
But I guess now, it's all in my head. A mix of visuals and smells. My memories are little clips of images like those from a photobooth. But pack a change of clothes, cause it's time to move on.
x
Wren + Glory now available on Nasty Gal
photos by Matt XIV