A Self Portrait of Me, By You

X that I miss a bit more than I can stand.
X that surprises me within frames.
X I want to Yoga Master you!

I woke up today to find this from you. In awe. Feeling like I cannot wait for you to continue discovering me. Feeling like I want to continue discovering you. Like I want to stand in the desert and follow you everywhere. Like I just want to be around and continue giving you ideas and making you smile so you continue to produce work.

When I look at what you sent, I feel as though a very important moment in my life has been archived and depicted. I look at it with such openness. I look at it as though standing in front of a heavy yet shiny steel window that you cannot but help admire because it goes into the sky, into space, and it never ends. And you are tiny. And you are minute. And you are there. I feel like something truly special began that day and that I hope it never ends but rather continues finding forms, ways of expression, tones of humor, depths of soul.

Thank you for the self portrait, by you, of me. It makes me smile to only think about it. I melt when I look at it. What an honor. To find myself naked and split appart in several pictures by you. I wish you could take down my entire body and do it all. And plasmarlo over dolls. And plasmarlo over all kinds of realities. I wish I could meet you in a Roman Amphitheater, semi naked, and wrestle you and your camera. And then kiss you all over. That is how I felt night and again with you. Like I was just desintegrating and forming myself again. Ever different. Ever more interesting. And with angles that are new and I did not know I had before.

That moment, I kept thinking I did not want you to leave, I did not want the morning to end, I did not want an end. Having brushed my teeth with Paul's from Maine, just looked outside the window, pausing for something to make you stay. Then, you showed me the pictures. And I left.

I felt like we conquered what we met for. You discovered me. Actually, it happened all over again just now. It happens every time.

Your self portrait of me, by you, will lead to a self portrait of you, by me. And I love that exploratory road that will take us there.

I slept last night with your white long sleeve shirt. It smells like you. I felt like wearing it yesterday because I wanted to have you around. It did the trick. It looks like I did have you around. I miss you.