Around that time I decided to take a road trip around the American West with my best friend. Following the moon through its phases, we took off to visit and play with some of the women I’ve met over the years who inspire me.
Among them was June.
We met for the first time in the dust last summer and spent the week living together in the back of a box van in Nevada. We worked a wet plate darkroom in the desert in the afternoons and started the mornings with champagne.
I showed up to her little apartment in LA with a bottle for old times sake, and we sat with friends remembering the summer and rolling around on their living room floor like the children we’ll probably always be.
I promised her a ride to the airport early in the morning, and we talked about taking some pictures while she packed for a Shibari event in Texas. I got to her place sometime around 8 am on my way out of the city. I think we were both a little hungover.
We had maybe an hour, no lights, no make-up, nothing to wear. It was perfect.
We made these photographs together in the kind of way good friends do anything. I helped her pack her ropes and lingerie in between playing with cameras in the tub trying not to loose equipment.
June is addictive. Her life’s work is artistry and sexuality.
I’ve watched her unapologetically tell women 3x her age that it’s okay to touch themselves. She’s a prolific performer, teacher and artist.
These photographs are a celebration of self-worship in all its little forms and an homage to people like June. “