Entering the New Beast

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Music and snuck-in gin and little bottles of flavoured vodka, being a wing girl, naps on hills, getting lost and spending a night in a campsite on the other side, no balance between cold and sunburn, ignoring media duties, smoking a plenty, and being with awesome people that i will never meet again.


morning hike in


the gorge in the sun







new friends share drinks and drugs, oysters and avacados



favourite stoop


the only warm place is at night, with Z-Trip


a gentleman's maintenance



limited daily breakfast


slipping through, the time has come


we're heartbroken



sneaking into the range life of Pavement



rain at midnight in the Booka Shade



gots all kinds of sweets for a soul man


Marlboro country outside the Honey Buckets



sunshine last


a Band of Horses steals our hearts


Neon Indian fucks us up



the boys and free beer and avocados



as dirty as white gravy

Running Away From The Belly Of The Beast

i have nothing elegant to say. Instead, i will remember not showering for 4 days and sleeping for a collection of 16 hours like this:


leaving Vancouver in a car of strangers


welcome to America, assholes


meatloaf and jambalaya


accent sardine can lined with pbr



field of fucking dreams for 4 hours



10am cocktails


This was the beginning. The rest was even more surreal because i didn't realize where i was or who i with most of the time - wandering and healing in the pits and crowds.