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theo rose

theo rose

WRITER. FILMMAKER. PERFORMANCE ARTIST. CURATOR.

In my body there are sixty nine homes.

You only have to live in one.

Fragile Eyed Frenchie

collection of poetry and photos

casting a light upon the inner child

living within black, queer bodies

RAPTURE

meditations on a time in a dark and empty place

where we held safety in the palms of our hands

(written and directed)

GENERATIVE/UNPRODUCTIVE

performance space new york

NEW YORK FASHION WEEK FALL 2023

(walking for lagoon)

LOLA

(starring)

NEW YORK FASHION WEEK WINTER 2024

NEW YORK FASHION WEEK SPRING 2024

(walking for ooh baby)

WRITING SAMPLE

Hell is a Home

abandonment in this room.

abandonment across the hall.

abandonment, my loyal friend.

i’m so drunk on you,

i almost forgot i’m afraid to die here.

my daughter used to live here

before i set fire to the floor of her room.

i must have forgot

the vastness of the hall

and how far she would venture

to find you in the light.

you have always been

what i couldn’t say.

i felt you foreboding my lungs

with the ashes of the room.

i felt you accosting my mind

with visions of lost love in the hall.

my heart has moved on,

but the house has not forgot.

all of the faces i had forgot

collide to form my only friend.

the faces forgive me

for letting my daughter roam the hall.

the faces swear

they’ll never leave here

for as long as i submit to their will.

her room is now their room

and i make their bed

for as long as there is no trace of you,

but i need you

more than i need the life i forgot.

i miss you when i remember

what happened in the room.

the neighbor caught me grieving

and tried to come over like a friend,

but there’s no space here

with all the abandonment

i moved into the hall.

no one knows

i still dwell in dreams

of you in the hall

and you

in the hanging mirror

too high up for her yet to see

the morose reflection of you.

please don’t go.

please keep lost who i forgot.

in my body there are 69 homes.

you only have to live in one.

i knew you were a true friend

when you helped me take apart

what was left

of the crib

in the room.

Honeylove

on the subway to nowhere,

where my mother resides.

years pass without peace of mind and here i stand, or sit and scroll tumblr,

waiting for 2013 to leave.

honeylove, i can’t come home.

i am sullen, sunlust, pitch blue lake.

on the subway to nowhere, where my mother resides.