I’m always looking for a way to describe what I envision, feeling that if I could explain myself, let everyone know it will all make sense, my work would unfold exactly as I saw it and it have a profound effect on whomever needed it.

My lines as an artist are rarely fine.  One medium blends into the next like sunshine into moonlight, and sometimes the possibilities overwhelm me.  Understanding a story is immediate upon seeing it in my imagination; putting it into words for someone else to understand is the first level of intimidation.  Hell, half the time my writing on Sunny Styles (and everywhere else) is so cryptic that no two people can ever understand it the same.  But in the moment of truth, it takes confidence to sell yourself, to have your work shine like something magical and new, for people to know there is a reason to keep looking, when it’s not-so-simple or the simplest of all.

Dave LaChapelle tells his stories damn well.  I admire him for his metaphors, for his shamelessness, and for the power he has over his subjects.  Sure, you can recognize the faces, the actors and singers; these are the highest of all self-monitors and yet look at how he molds them into what he sees.  Look at how he makes us believe we are staring at someone entirely new, in a place that’s never before been dreamed.  Keep inspiring us with your metaphors, Mr. LaChapelle.