You were one of the lead characters in the chapter I wrote about Los Angeles.
When I left that vague city behind me, you were mostly what I thought about. A entity of substance floating amongst the vapid ghosts of my memories.
Remember the nights when we’d stay up late talking, your whole body creating music, art; you expelling an intricate web between the souls that came to you for inspiration?
And though everything about you was slightly unhinged, I found comfort in your lack of symmetry.
How do you mourn a house? Especially one that was completely annihilated by a fast and purposeful fire? Do you grieve for it like you would a person? Dwelling on the fanciful memories that blow the subject up like a balloon, wildly out of proportion and heavy on the heart?
In every way, The Ranch was what you set out to make it, Kevin. It was that place. The place where artists and musicians and filmmakers came and did what they did best- create. I know you wanted so much more for it, but in hindsight, I hope you see that you achieved it and maybe this was the way The Ranch was meant to go. It reached it’s purpose and just simply imploded.
Photos by Lauren Modery, Eylene Pirez, Aaron Lomeli, & Melissa Rauso.