Bangishimo Photography

Patricia Marroquin Norby, the Met's First Native American Curator, Quietly Left

https://www.artnews.com/art-news/news/patricia-marroquin-norby-met-museum-curator-departure-1234779468/

Moving forward, I’m being more intentional about who I collaborate with. Over the last few years, people have brought to my attention that a small number of models I’ve worked with hold values that do not align with my own.

That matters to me, because my work is rooted in consent, community, and respect for Black, Indigenous, racialized, q***r, trans, and IndigiQueer people.

From here on out, I’ll be sharing a clear list of my values with every model and collaborator before we shoot. If those values do not align, I will choose not to move forward with the booking.

And if it is brought to my attention that I have previously worked with someone whose values directly conflict with mine, I will remove their images from my social media and website.

I am deeply grateful for the friends I have made while traveling the world. Wherever I go, I try to get to know the locals, to listen, to build real connections. I have been lucky to make meaningful friendships in many places, and Miguel is one of them. Our time in Cancun has been filled with laughter, late night tacos, long walks through the streets, and simply enjoying each other’s company. I am endlessly thankful for his friendship and his generosity every time I return.

If you ever get the chance to travel, step away from the resorts and say hi to someone new. Real magic lives in those moments. The friendships you make along the way will stay with you long after the trip ends.

~ My Final Post of 2025 ~

We met at a time when both of us were trying to survive.
Two quiet winters colliding without warning.
Alone in the cold, each of us believing no one else existed.

I was sitting on the floor.
You were lying beside me.
And for some reason, the universe wanted you to turn your head and say,
Hi, I’m Matthew.

You show up exactly as you are.
A reflective worker’s vest and a harmonica.
Leather shorts and a purse slung over your shoulder.
Paint-stained shirts worn like second skin.
You don’t perform for attention.
You offer yourself freely.
Music, laughter, silence.

One night you left halfway through,
apologizing because you had a marathon in the morning.
I laughed so hard I couldn’t breathe.
Why are you here if you’re running a marathon tomorrow?
That’s you.
Spontaneous. Unbothered. Fully alive.

We’ve spent hours on kitchen floors,
Saturday nights cooking,
long stretches in your studio without saying a word.
Side by side. Making art.
Finding comfort in the quiet.

You have become one of the most important people in my life.
Not because you tried to be.
But because you are always there.

We didn’t meet because everything was easy.
We met because we were both lonely, sitting in the cold.
Because sometimes survival looks like connection.
Because sometimes all it takes is someone saying hello.

As the year comes to an end, I've been thinking a lot about the friends in my life and the people I love, the people who constantly show up for me, the ones who stand up for me when I'm not in the room, the ones who know how to sit by my side in silence and not say anything. Those are the relationships that mean everything to me.

This week I had the honor of finally shooting one of my longest and closest friends, Rex. We have been friends for over 30 years and only a few people in my life have known me for that long. This photo means so much to me because it exactly captures why Rex is so important in my life. We met at an LGBT youth group and his energy filled the room instantly. His laugh, his presence, his light. Even in my darkest moments, Rex has always been that steady, radiant force. He continues to inspire me, to surprise me, to remind me of what joy looks like. This one is for you, Rex. I love you. ❤️