This article is dedicated to Joselito Acevedo.

At the beginning of this year, my life changed in a way I wasn’t prepared for. In January, the most important person in my life passed away. Losing Joselito left a space in my life that felt impossible to fill. For the first time in my life, I truly felt alone. Grief has a way of making the world feel quiet even when everything around you keeps moving. I found myself thinking about death more than I ever had before, thinking about how quickly life can change and how fragile time really is.

In the weeks that followed, I spent a lot of time reflecting on my life and the things I had put off. Projects that once felt important had slowly drifted into the background as everyday life took over. One of those projects was something I started four years ago in my hometown of Los Angeles, photographing drag performers and documenting the creativity and personality that exists within drag culture. It was a project I believed in, but over time it paused and eventually sat untouched.

After Joselito passed, I realized something. Life isn’t guaranteed. Tomorrow isn’t promised. If there was ever a time to stop waiting and start living fully, it was now. I made a decision that changed everything: I was going to live like each day might be my last. That decision led me back to the project I had abandoned. This time, though, I wanted to take it further. Instead of keeping it local, I wanted to take it around the world, documenting drag performers in different cities and scenes.

The first stop would be New York City.

The trip itself was already significant for me. I hadn’t been on a plane in twenty years. Just stepping onto that flight felt like crossing a personal barrier I hadn’t realized I’d been holding onto for so long. When I landed in New York, I decided not to rush immediately into photographing anything. Instead, I gave myself the first night to simply experience the city.

New York has an energy that is impossible to ignore. Coming from Los Angeles, where everything spreads out and moves at its own pace, New York felt electric. The streets were alive with people, lights bounced off storefronts and taxis, and music poured out of bars and clubs as the night grew later. I walked through neighborhoods just taking everything in. The sounds, the conversations, the movement of the crowd. It felt like the city never paused, and for someone who had spent the previous months processing grief, that constant motion was strangely comforting.

That first night was about absorbing the atmosphere and reminding myself why I came. I wanted to experience life again.

“The spellbinding scent of perfume. The electric eye contact that reaches a patron’s soul. The delicate art of securing a tip. These were the moments that mesmerized me growing up in Southern California, captivated by the drag scene. Today, as a full-time drag entertainer in the Big Apple, I carry those sacred gems of performance with me. As a proud brown queer artist, I honor the chapters of my past while continuing to write new ones on any stage.“ -Freeda Kulo

The next afternoon, the photography project officially began at Kween (kweenastoria.com), where I photographed an afternoon performance by Freeda Kulo. From the moment the show started, the energy in the room shifted. Freeda commanded the stage with a presence that was impossible to ignore. Every movement, every expression, every moment was filled with personality. It was the perfect way to begin the New York chapter of this project.

Later that same night, I had the opportunity to capture behind-the-scenes moments and performance shots from Chicky Gorgina and Marti G. Cummings. Being backstage always reveals a different side of performance. The glamour people see on stage is only part of the story. Behind the curtain there are quick costume changes, final makeup touches, moments of quiet focus, and bursts of laughter between performers who have built a community together through their art.

In the middle of the trip, I took a night off to celebrate my birthday. It felt important to pause and simply enjoy the moment. Being in New York during that time of my life felt symbolic—like I had stepped into a new chapter without fully realizing it.

The following night I attended a production called The Simple Life, hosted by Hanukah Lewinsky and Reese Havoc. The show took place in Hell's Kitchen, only blocks away from Times Square. The performance ran for more than two hours and felt like a theatrical production in its own right. The pacing, the humor, the costumes, and the storytelling had the feel of a Broadway show. It was a reminder that drag isn’t just performance—it’s theater, comedy, fashion, and personality all blended into one.

The next evening I attended a large dinner drag show at Lips NYC, where I connected with Roxie Chanel. The atmosphere there was vibrant, colorful, and loud in the best possible way. Performers including Ambroja, Chaka Khanvict, Natalie Carrera, and Sophya Medina filled the room with energy and personality. The audience wasn’t just watching the show—they were part of it.

Afterward, I followed Roxie to a small bar in Astoria. The atmosphere there was completely different from the polished production I had just photographed. It was smaller, grittier, and raw in a way that felt authentic and exciting. It was one of those moments where you realize that some of the most memorable experiences happen in the least expected places.

One rainy night while walking through the city, I stumbled into a bar where Kimmi Moore was performing a one-woman show. There were maybe five to ten people in the audience. But what struck me was the way she performed. She gave everything she had to that stage, singing and performing with the confidence of someone standing in front of a sold-out crowd. Watching that moment reminded me that true performers don’t measure their passion by the size of the audience.

Toward the end of my trip, before returning to Freeda Kulo, I had the privilege of photographing Joesphina in an editorial-style shoot on the streets of Manhattan. The city became our backdrop—its textures and motion adding layers to the portraits. Shooting Josephina felt like a bridge between the theatrical energy of performance and the more personal, intimate side of drag artistry.

Finally, everything came full circle with another performance by Freeda Kulo, joined by the stunning Fonda Koxx and the dynamic Pietra Parker. Ending the trip with another performance from the same artist who helped begin it felt like the perfect closing moment.

Looking back on the experience, what stayed with me most wasn’t just the performances or the venues. It was the passion behind them. From elaborate productions to underground bar shows, every performer I encountered brought their entire self to the stage.

This trip started because I lost someone who meant everything to me. In many ways, traveling to New York and reconnecting with this project helped me remember something important: life is meant to be lived fully, even in the middle of grief.

The project that began in Los Angeles four years ago has now taken on a new life.

And this is only the beginning.

Strut and Soul: New York City 2026

Between the Notes: Where Boudoir Met Me