06 . 15 . 19
PHOTOS & WRITING | AIDAN T. E. GALASSETTI
Tim texted me a picture of breakfast sandwich sitting on the window sill of our seventh floor dorm room a week before I was to arrive and join my roomies. It was the last week of the last summer before undergrad and the anticipation of moving in with him and John was incredulous. It was three lads, three bunkbeds, and three desks in one room. Our triple had a single big window that filled up with enough sky as such you could see a fully formed gradient - pink to blue to purple - on any given fall evening. Our tungsten lamps cast a warm blanket over our humble room, adding drama to the work we did and kindling to the dreams we described. When the rain poured outside during the Seattle autumn our room felt like a treehouse withstanding the elements. We all moved away from home together and ended up on some bizarre island where we decided to brave the elements together. The unique emotions accompanying mixed with the media we consumed, creating a time capsule of music, film, and pop culture ripe with vivid nostalgia. We stayed up till 3 AM scheming how we were going to make it, trying to articulate our changing definitions of home into the art we made. The details of this time wash me with a longing that’s quickly replaced with gratitude and bliss.
Time continued and we soon moved out, got an apartment together, and eventually moved again to different homes. While John and I stayed united till the end Tim took a different road - one that served him best. Our communions became seldom and our two years apart built a space between us. This space was crushed immediately when we reconvened in Suzz. Meeting up for grad photos felt like some of our old bullshit - “ok guys I know a lot of people are studying but if we’re fast enough we can throw these papers, pick em up, then get tf out of here”. Why shit like this didn’t happen sooner, more frequenty, I wonder and regret. But fuck it! We started together and we ended together (more or less, Tim has one more year). Brothers always. •