At first, falling in love turns the artist’s eyes into lenses, with super-vivid filters, as if just moving around through the world she is taking it in, capturing it, recording it. Every act seems scriptworthy, documentable—And then I lay down and wrapped the sheet around my fist. The world around her goes figurative; everything she sees is an analogy for love. She has never experienced the world like this. She feels drunk with the pleasure of just being in it.
So she goes into her studio to try to capture it all.
She throws open the windows and stands there in the warm bath of light, and she can’t bring herself to do anything. Everything already looks fucking great.
Chelsey Johnson, “Devices,” Avery 5