WORDS || PICTURES // gregoryeyev // SOUNDS || FILMS

I'm trying not to be a creative hoarder, but I also don't want to overshare. Hopefully I'll find a solid middle ground sometime soon.

[gregory-eyev-blog]

creation // destruction need a new tattoo soooooon. (at Saint-Sauveur)

[gregory-eyev-blog]

the miles between (at Frozen River)

[gregory-eyev-blog]

I don't believe in fate, but I do believe in light. (at Second Home)

[gregory-eyev-blog]

L o n g P o s t: Some of you know that I was in a band called @modernsands for some years with my best friends and family (some of you just found out lol). We haven't played a show or practiced together in over two years due to life. But in that time frame, I haven't stopped loving or making music. I just haven't made anything that I was proud enough to share/I was still in my creative shell, nervous to step out on my own. I guess being in a band felt like you had people to protect you and to take hits with. Being solo feels so vulnerable and naked. But in the end, it's these same people (plus a couple more) that I look to to give me constructive criticism, creative assistance, and encouragement along the way. With all that being said, I'm releasing a music video tonight (directed by yours truly) that features a song I wrote and recorded. I haven't decided on a time yet, debating between 3pm and 7pm. But either way, I'm going to cast my fears aside and share a little slice of heart with you all. I hope you enjoy ❤️ (at Music Video)

[gregory-eyev-blog]

poem #360 (December 27, 2017)

I am so close to seeing you. 

It feels like a fever dream.

Mere hours away.

Relativity is a motherfucker. 

[thestyleaddict]

[sotick]

[gregory-eyev-blog]

poem #359 (December 26, 2017)

You’ve made your mark on me so clearly. 

Like strawberries on my fingertips.

Like the ink on my skin.

Like the scar on my thumb and the scar on my chin. 

[gregory-eyev-blog]

poem #358 (December 25, 2017)

You want to show me the riverside where you spend warm nights along, paddle boarding and looking for turtles. 

You want to show me the Orange Julep that you begged your parents to take you as a child.

I want to see everything through your eyes.

I want to feel the same way you feel about these landmarks. 

I want to stand by your side and witness your nostalgic smiles. 

I want to share your old memories. 

I want to make new ones as well. 

[sotick]

By  Joe Curtin

[gregory-eyev-blog]

poem #357 (December 24, 2017)

My heart is full once again. 

All of these beautiful souls. 

All of this love.

It’s nothing short of miraculous. 

[antiopia-deactivated20180324]

[gregory-eyev-blog]

poem #356 (December 23, 2017)

I have not chosen the easiest path.

I have not decided what I wanted to be at 8 years old.

I am still very much a work in progress.

Caution tapes and construction signs all around me. 

[horrifying]

[remindie]

[gregory-eyev-blog]

poem #355 (December 22, 2017)

I wish I could still believe in your dreams.

I wish I could still see your vision through.

But I am no longer who I once was. 

I can no longer believe in false promises.

I can no longer follow blindly into the darkness. 

[gregory-eyev-blog]

poem #354 (December 21, 2017)

No longer can I be a victim, a damsel, a small town waiting for a hero to save it 

from monotony.

I will not wait in vain for your love, for Godot, or for my ideal future to show up 

at my front door.