This past weekend has been incredibly busy. I moved into my new place, got to see all of my friends again, shot photos of my friends in Brooklyn (some will be up here later), and tried to get life settled and back into an actual schedule. And after all of that, I realized it was the first of the month. For the past three years, I've painted a huge calendar on my wall (refer to the movie, "If Lucy Fell" for inspiration). The first photo was a self portrait I did last year. I feel that the things I did with my life showed more of my self than my actual physical being. Maybe that's why most of my photography features faceless models?