It’s a cold Sunday morning, and I’m sitting on the floor in front of my record player. There is a persistent tightness in my throat nagging at me alongside a wavering in my body like my limbs are trying to not become lost at sea. The guitar strums on this record remind me of heat…
My sun and my moon are ruled by nostalgia and a chase. I am someone who is always running after a feeling and an energy, trying to capture and recreate something I have a hard time describing in words.