We shot these in Palm Desert on a warm winter night just before the sun disappeared behind the mountains and the evening chill began to crawl across the desert floor. It has a way of doing that once the sun goes. Starting at the feet and winding its way up until you feel it in the wind, pressing against your face. It's not much of a chill, but it's enough to let you know that you're alive, and that things are changing.
It's a reflective time of day for me. It's the time of day when, if I've managed to find some semblance of an actual routine, I'll put on Cecile Mclorin Salvant, Melody Gardot, or my longtime love Madeleine Peyroux, make a cup of tea, and watch the sun surrender. It's the time of day that I set aside for myself. To tidy my work space, or to write for myself and for no one else, or to just sit still in the growing dusk and turn inwards. It's the time of day where I am more myself than any other time. It's a ritual. It's essential, and it's the cornerstone of everything, giving me the strength and clarity I need to continue carving my path.
Photos by Kelsey Bollig