Last night, Jen Holland had a layover from Detroit to Montreal at LaGuardia from 11:30 pm until 6:30 am. I was supposed to meet her at the airport and camp out overnight, but I was sick with the flu, so she took a cab to my house. Before last night, we hadn't seen each other in seven years.
I designed the tattoo on her arm.
Her visit feels like a feverish dream.
I was much more mellow than usual because of flu exhaustion, but we still managed to have several photo shoots.
Jen read through some of the letters she's written me in the past seven years. She wanted to understand why I thought she sounded like a self-help book.
We did a compare-and-contrast study of the letters she sent me right after I graduated from college and was living in San Francisco versus her more current letters. Her old letters were much more about day-to-day events. Her newer letters are more focused on self-reflection.
We went up to the roof and had a look around.
And then she was gone.


