Roots.

Cruisers on a Citibike in Manhattan, NY

Returning to your roots has a special way of evoking inspiration. Especially when those roots are New York City.

As a creative I’m always searching for inspiration. Hours upon hours on Instagram, Google, and Pinterest looking at mood boards, “aesthetics” and other artists’ work trying to figure out how I can recreate that look but make it mine. That’s where I was mistaken. I was searching outside of myself for inspiration as many of us find ourselves doing when first discovering who we are as creatives. This by no means is the wrong thing to do but in order to discover oneself, one has to look within FIRST. Everything you need can be found by looking within and realizing who you are, going back to your roots can help you awaken your highest self.

Last summer I got to visit Dade County, Miami Florida where my father grew up in his early years during the 70s and early 80s. If you know anything about Miami during that time you know it was a WILD place to be. As wild as it was he grew up in the thick of it and ended up losing his father at the age of 17 to a shooting. He watched my grandfather bleed out on the concrete and was changed forever. I never got to meet my grandfather but the stories I’ve heard over the years confirm that he was a great man, knowing that brings me some comfort. While in Dade County my father showed us around the neighborhood and took us down memory lane. Driving by different houses, schools, and blocks in which he told anecdotal stories about his cinematic childhood. Listening to his life story has always been a favorite pastime of mine and it serves a purpose in connecting me to him, my grandfather, and all those before him, my deeper roots. My experience in Miami inspired me to start making music and I recorded 3 songs in 3 days while I was there. Searching for inspiration outside of myself wasn’t necessary when I realized my life and the story I have to tell is all the inspiration I need. God gave my this story and its my purpose to tell it, to give my testimony. That’s your job as well, to realize who you are and to give your testimony to inspire another. That is legacy, that is how you live forever. R.I.P Chink

Now that you know that part of the story I can tell you mine. Born in Brooklyn, raised in the Poconos, from the hood to the woods. I didn’t live in Brooklyn long enough to truly connect with it as a place I know as home but I do have a lot of memories from there growing up, and a lot of trauma. The trauma I experienced there as a child may have subconsciously kept me away from returning for so long but one day I mustered up the courage to return to a place in Brooklyn I wished to never see again. Upon arrival I broke down in tears and began to release all the pain I had been holding on to. I wasn’t expecting this sort of reaction but it was needed. I walked away with a weight lifted off my shoulders and a perspective in which I viewed my Brooklyn roots. A perspective that allowed my to capture New York City on 35mm film in its true beauty. Like the rose that grew from concrete.

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