I moved from Los Angeles to Las Vegas at the tail end of 2012. I ended up partnering up with a Disney Gallery and their ventures in the progressive rebuilding of downtown Las Vegas. My gallery, “Loveless Collective” (AKA: Loveless in Las Vegas), was in a metal shipping unit out in the Container Park off of Fremont Street. I worked 7 days a week, and at the end of each day I’d drive back to my lonely little apartment out in Henderson only to repeat the cycle over and over again.
I didn’t have many friends,,… actually.. I only really hung out with one person when I lived there. I worked so much that I never got to really go out and meet people. I mean… it wasn’t Las Vegas’s fault… it was mine. In order to REALLY understand this city, you have to make the effort… and well.. I wasn’t used to that.
I ended up moving to Chicago around the end of 2013. I remember my last day there, which was around 4 in the morning. I drove through the neon strip one last time to say my goodbye. My memory faded of Las Vegas much like it did in my rear view mirror as I drove in the soft darkness of the desert and out towards the sunrise in the mountains.
Now in the beginning of living in Chicago, I gave Las Vegas a bad rep, and I think thats because I was bitter about how it all ended. Slowly, but surely I came back to do Disney guest spots at the various new locations that “Magical Memories Gallery” would in inhabit, and EACH time I went, much like the darkest sparkle to the biggest light… my love for the city grew and grew.
I fell in love with a city post breakup which is such a strange way to love something.