98days

Format- Digital

I created 98 days as a social media love letter for my now wife while she was living and pursuing graduate studies in Ireland from 2015-2016.

The first 98 days of finding myself alone in my apartment in New York City were devoted to creating these auto-portraits. It was an attempt at survival, and within this self-preservation venture, my premise was to do a self-portrait session per week without fail- no excuses. I would select the picture that would best enclose what my heart was going through at the moment, process that image, and then post it on my personal instagram account, tagging my wife, of course. Each photograph included its own dedicated caption. 

98 days aims to encompass my never ending struggle to find who I am as an artist, yet more importantly, what kind of person I become in solitude. I found myself with this effort- I did. What I found was disastrous, unsightly, yet beautifully engaging. I was fortunate to have experienced this life-changing event and that, at the same time, I was able to refocus my plight towards pushing my artistry. Some call this kind of endeavour therapy. Others perhaps call it love. I humbly call it art- or all of the above. 

98days- 1 of 14 of a series. A tribute to the herculean task of coping with loneliness and an empty nest. I'm shooting one per week until I get to my (our) goal in mid-late december in europe with @keeliesheridan #sleepinguntildecember

98days- 2 of 14. Holding on tight to the things I love the most. Even if they're not physically close. #teamo #sleepinguntildecember

98days- 3 of 14. #cosita One per week. That's the premise. I don't want to hear it! I don't want to see it. It hurts. It bloody hurts. I'm cold. I'm so cold. Don't leave. I know you won't. I know you'll never leave. I can't. But I can wait! it's an #everydaycatharsis I'm alive. I'm so alive, my @keeliesheridan

 

98days- 4 of 14. I tried to swim to you. Didn't work. I had some wine to help. Futile. I even used a photo of you wearing a bathing suit to see if I could reach my destination. Nothing. I just crave to be with you. So much. Too much. If anything this is proving to myself how much in love I am with you. How much I'm willing to live on that ledge at the expense of losing my sanity. #iaminsane#notgivingup #ever 

98days- 5 of 14 I have no option but to crave and look for my alone time. It's the only time I can do the things I need to do to take care of myself. I find myself looking for nooks and crannies everywhere in order to do that. Private moments like when I'm in the bathroom by myself and I allow for it to rain. I just... nobody could have prepared me for this. This is absurdity on its maximum level of expression. Violins play endlessly on loop on my headphones in a pathetic yet successful attempt to pacify me and all I can think of is you subtly grabbing my chin with your delicate hand and softly landing, turning your lips into a kiss right on top of mine. If anything that proves to be the key element of revival. I know yours is a mirror of mine. And mine is of yours. #teamo#cosita #sleepinguntildecember#whatstakingsolong 

98days- 6 of 14. I went into your closet. I wore your pajamas. 
I have this constant pain in my stomach as if someone had ripped out my guts. It's a continuous pain that pulls me down to ultimately make me crouch into a ball. 
My troubled, twisted mind prompts me to embrace these cruel, unwanted thoughts and my somewhat pacified soul yells at me loud: "She's yours. Just wait for her. She's all for you," even though a very immature leviathan monster is relentlessly threatening to take over my soul in a full out act of malarkey. I'm prompted to scream. It instigates me and suggests that I truncate and sever or link and lace and love. My stomach trembles jocund in a blatant foreshadowing of our future. All of this at the same time. Thus I live in this constant parody of an arm-wrestle. I am completely ridiculous. "Que cuando el amor no es locura no es amor." -Pedro Calderón de la Barca
#distanceisaharshmistress
#teamo #unbesoenesaboca #sleepinguntildecember

98days- 7 of 14 I sleep on your side of the bed and I pull a Tina every single night. I only get about 45 minutes to an hour of continuous sleep. No. This is not the story of a person who wants to be recognized as a hero. I'm trying to be as honest as I possibly can with how I describe what I go through when missing you. Questions linger like a pack of viciously hungry, harsh mistresses. And the answers? They're blindingly obvious. 
Q: How much can I take of this?
A: My shirt is off, my chest is up and puffed. 
Q: Why wait?
A: Are you kidding? You don't understand. You find someone like this you don't let go. You just don't. You hold on tight. You use your heart muscles to squeeze inside her soul; you dream of running your fingertips up her exquisite neck and tangle them in her full, red forest. 
Q: Is that my girlfriend?
A: You better believe it!
Don't worry. All of my tantrums are a voracious attempt to magically teleport myself to you. I'm estimating it'll take six more weeks. Cool? 
#teamo #cosita#sleepinguntildecember#whatstakingsolong

98days- 8 of 14. I'm trying to keep the balance between capturing the world that surrounds me and being present in that very world. It's your kiss. The way you kiss me. That's the equalizer. So soft. So fruitful. So full of life. One of your kisses confesses a thousand secrets that no one could ever even aspire to concoct. I'm immediately thrown into an abyss that takes me back to that first night we kissed. What's the name of that restaurant again? What street is it on? Does it matter? (It does ;) I think the sparks matter! That's what matters. The freaking sparks! What matters is that it was a good move. But it was both of us. It was a "good move" from the two of us. Me kissing you. And you kissing me back; both delving into the plunge. Oh, now I'm full of joy! For real! Full of the most wondrous versions of bliss.@keeliesheridan #whatstakingsolong#distanceisaharshmistress

98days- 9 of 14. Returning to a place where I have looked for you before has its gratifying advantages. Today I had the privilege of visiting a place that you've been to a lot. A place that was a witness to your life for an extended period of time. I got to look at what you saw while growing up. I got to touch and see the same trees, the same land, the same soil, the same houses, the same walls. All of these have something in common, aside from the fact that they saw you growing up. Together they confine the energy that was harnessed when you were conjuring your most treasured spells as a child. They are the jewelry chest that ensconces all of your mermaid secrets. This helps me to continue to build an even stronger foundation for the love I have for you. Treating your beautiful family like it's my own, getting to pick their brains and profess to them my most valuable discovery of just how much of a treasure of a human being you are to me cannot be put into a quantifiable scheme; it cannot be reduced to words. #takemewithyou

98days- 10 of 14. One per week for my @keeliesheridan 
Laying in our bed with bloodshot eyes. You know that moment in which you're about to burst with emotions? You're bested by an overwhelming feeling of the impossibility of expressing yourself like you usually do and words simply can't communicate what you're thinking? That's me while I'm not with you for this extended period of time. I'm left stunned, and my temerity is flushed down a daunting, self-imploding toilet. I clamorously question the audacity of my maker on just why the hell she made me to be so sentimental. It's abysmal. And this rouge feeling of not being able to do anything about it is quasi destroying me. And even though I might be referring to all of this with pejorative connotations I wouldn't want it any other way. A single tear commits suicide; my body will find a way to express itself. And that's the respite. 
#distanceisaharshmistress 

98days- 11 of 14. Why is it that love is so promptly mocked as soon as it displays its animated colors- its call into action? I was buffeted a few days ago with blatant ridicule at full mockery speed because I proudly wear all the love I posses on my sleeve. The love for my lady, the love for my son, for my family- I BLATANTLY love. And if there's anything that I've had throughout my life, now more than ever is the fact that I love and am loved to the fullest. I'm lucky, of course. But I've been striving on that pursuit relentlessly like a crazy person since I was born until I found what I was looking for. 
You. 
You are what I was looking for. And I'm content to be standing proudly on my own two feet able to have a voice, able to voice my thoughts and know they'll be received in the same way I receive yours, able to just be and enjoy you as much as you enjoy me.
I did this yesterday night- I stood still on 72nd st and Broadway in
#manhattan , looked up at the sky in a languid manner and realized that five hours ago, even if for a brief second, you were looking at the same sky. I was hoping to catch one of your thoughts- one of the ones you had thought a few hours prior. I did and I'm keeping it safely locked in here. I'll tell you what it is when I see you in 23 days. @keeliesheridan
PS for the world- We need more of this. Enough hate. ENOUGH. No empathy equals no compassion. And without compassion we are lost. Utterly and completely lost in the cauldron of oblivion.

98days- 12 of 14. This final push to get to you is forcing me to be more at ease with the fact that it's ok to get ugly in front of people. I've never been able to do this- getting this ugly. I have in private. But it's different now. An amalgamation of events have provoked this. 
I remember a time in which I told you that my emotions were stiff and that I couldn't use them for anything. That I was dead inside. That I had been striving for so long for some version of quietness and normalcy that the result was me forcing my emotions to sleep. I was dramatically questioning what was the point of being an actor if I couldn't use the emotions I experienced in private in a public place, like the stage or a movie set. You came in and changed that, you know? You woke me up, and I realized it's very much alive and very dense, actually. This suffering high brings me closer to my limit. And whilst at the limit I'm closer to what I aspire to be for you- a much more raw human being. "A flor de piel" like my mother always says. "But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve
For daws to peck at."
Othello, 1.1

Masochism? ; ) This is the ultimate space frontier- the ascent into that catharsis and the blissful descent into the denouement- those ten seconds of suspension right before it ends make it all worth it for a few seconds in which I can emote the world and humbly show it to you as the ultimate hilasmos. And although you were not an angry party, you were hungry for love. And I was more than willing, sweets. I sliced my heart open and you gazed... "Here’s much to do with hate but more with love." Romeo and Juliet, 1.1

98days- 13 of 14. I just don't want to be here. A feeling of unharnessed, deadly scum takes over me and I can't move. This slime is daunting and my best attempt to wade through it is subtly mocked by a gargantuan monster that smiles gently at me. He kills me with a flick of his finger. He grimaces fickle and as I try to escape this universe I am revived again and again. I can't leave. I can't stay. This is impossible. This is impossible. I can't defeat it, I can't hedonize it. I look at myself in the mirror trying to recognize myself. All I see is the shadow of what I once was. These bags bring me down with them. I see the suffering. I see the pain. How can no one else see it? This is absurd. It's so obvious to me. Are they even looking? 
My eyes get crossed as I attempt to find myself in this impossible swamp of shit. I catch myself doing it and I'm mortified at the thought of someone watching me- looking at my crossed eyes. I find out I'm alive. Inside. I'm so alive. More alive than I've ever been before. I take a gander at the amount of guilt and shame I carry with me and I'm incredibly surprised you still love me the way you do. I keep beating myself to the ground and still don't understand. Makes me reconsider. What do you see, Kee? Turns me tender. What the fuck am I if it's not this ridiculous contradiction? Why can't I be happy with just being me? I turn the volume up on my headphones- I split my ear drums like the basest groundlings. I grimace and gnaw my teeth trying to FEEL something other than pain. White noise---------------------- I find myself smiling. It's a genuine one. I am bewitched, ensnared in the thought of you holding me again. I can only think of your gently perfumed, precious skin. Your delicate curves keeping me motivated to continue pushing for the ride of my life. Your sweet, delicious navel precedes the warmth of your breath and gives me comfort. The way your body feels close to mine; it pacifies me. The way you look at me. Oh, man... the way you look at me.

98days- 14 of 14. The emotional burden it must be to have to deal with my insecurities deserves a championship medal. I think I get one. But @keeliesheridan gets a bigger one. She's a beast. There's no one who has more luck in this entire universe than me. 

Darling, Keelie your relentless, unwavering support, your instinctive direction, your patience, your steering me to a more jocund place of laughter and joy- a place where we can both rejoice in laughing at our own insanity with the utmost incredulity. This I treasure the most. Yet I must apologize. Because living with this shame, the burden of guilt- of feeling like I make you suffer just as much as I suffer. How can you do this? Why do you do this? I ask you. And you give me the simplest answer: "I love you." And that answer makes me want to tame and decimate my inner Ivanov. Mi vida, I know I deserve you because I want to wake up every morning and choose to be in love with you. Every day- every single day. Because you do the same by showing me day in and day out how one is supposed to love- eyes closed, arms open affronting whatever comes your way. I'll continue my attempt on not letting shame and derision be my ruin, as my art depends on embracing that very self-disgust. 

Jet lag is getting the best of me. Yet it's slowly receding and in a very masochistic way I don't want it to end. For it to end means that my body is getting used to being back home without you. You're there and I'm here- not my favorite. I have been dreading finishing this photography series. It reminds me of a long running theatre show and my aversion to have to let it go. Only difference is with the series I have to make this happen myself. It's long overdue- here it is. 98days- 14 of 14
#distanceisaharshmistress #teamo #cosita#dormroom #mediumshot#sleepinguntildecember