Remember when we first lived together in NYC? It was 4 people with one bathroom and your room didn’t have a window. I had just broken up with my boyfriend, didn’t have many friends, worked full time at an Apple store repairing iPhones and I definitely didn’t have a cool instagram account. Still, you befriended me and introduced me to all of your friends. You showed me how to have fun in the city when I didn’t know how. You helped me to feel confident and handsome, even if I didn’t always fit in. Then, like bandits, we escaped out of that crowded apartment with too many people and not enough bathrooms and we moved into our very own apartment, just us two. We decorated the walls with paintings and pictures and had more parties than I can count on my hands and toes. I watched you grow and hop from job to job, finding yourself and tapping into the skills that you enjoyed most while I starting serving at 3 different vegan restaurants and working any other random gig I could get my hands on. We hustled together, working hard and playing hard, with never a dull moment.
Then I started this Instagram. I used an old piece of white plastic that covered a light fixture in the utility closet as my background and I would set it in your windowsill to take shots of food because it was the only light I had access to. You would come home to me watching cooking shows of Julia Child and Nigella Lawsom, scribbling down ideas and working on recipes. The apartment slowly turned into a mini-farmers market with dried ears of corn and bushels of herbs suspending from the ceiling and props and backgrounds accumulating left and right. You were there, by my side, and you watched me tap into the authentic creativity that is now the very source of the content you see here.
Eventually I moved away and you stayed. But now, even when you visit me years later in New Orleans, and you sit on my bed with a glass of wine and we watch a movie, it feels just like when we lived together, with a comfort that is incomparable to most. I’ve always considered you to be a brother that I’ve never had Davey, and I ultimately just want to make you proud. And laugh.