There’s something about sitting on the floor between the knees of your older sister, your head being tugged in every direction, while you toggle between sleepy indifference and being annoyed before you even knew the word existed. My sister used to play a TV show (of her choosing because big sisters – amirite?) and give me a box of blonde raisins as she sat surrounded by a comb, a brush, a cup of water, and a jar of Blue Magic. I’m a gatekeeper, so what happened next is only for the culturally aligned, but what I can tell you is that my hair was long and healthy. By the time the show and the raisins were finished, my lil curls would be neatly fashioned for the week (okay – so… for two days. My hair is Jim Jones fine) and I was happy because it wasn’t something I had to think about until the following weekend.
Decades later, I found myself on YouTube trying every style. And obviously, there was no way for these styles to work if you didn’t have all of the accoutrements: clarifying shampoo, a hydrating shampoo, a conditioner, a deep conditioner, a leave-in conditioner, some sort of creme, a gel, and some edge control. I tried every variation of all of them. Then I learned about curl patterns. Density. Textures. Lo-po versus hi-po hair. It was so overwhelming. I went natural wayyyyyyy before it became a global trend (again). I remember rocking a fro while listening to a very new 36 Chambers in my tape deck. So why was it now so difficult to manage? Split ends, breakage, always super dry. Ugh. I wasn’t in love with my hair anymore and I was no longer proud. So I shaved it. It just made sense to me. I kept it shaved for a while, and when I decided to grow it back – this time without all the products, it came in thick, full, and healthy – just like old times.
My journey as a artist feels very much the same. My father was the family photographer so naturally, I ended up with a camera in my hand. I went from taking flicks at college parties for uploading on the thefacebook (IYKYK) to sitting in a lecture hall halfway around the world discussing semiotic nuance, ethics in travel photography, and Cartier-Bresson. It all moved so fast. Suddenly, I had famous clients and my mentor was A. BIG. DEAL. The feds were after my roommate, my events company popped off right as my business partner’s mom told him he couldn’t work with me anymore, I had my first solo gallery show, and I got published. Everything was so chaotic. I thought I was rolling with the punches – and then the world changed – and my world changed along with it. Everything I thought I understood about the world and my place in it was suddenly different. The things happening around me and around the world shifted several parts of my identity, changed the viability of my company, and left me completely disconnected from everything I had built. Mentally, physically, emotionally, spiritually, relationally, financially, and creatively. It was a total loss.
I would spend the next five years debating whether I wanted to go back to what I was doing before The F*ckening™ or if the path forward meant moving on with something completely different. In the meantime, the world moved on without me. I scrolled social media to tap into culture rather than being the culture and over time, I got frustrated watching my peers achieve all of my previous goals but with what I considered half the talent. For the first time in my life, I was jealous, and I was being a hater. I started to consider what my life would look like had The F*ckening™ never happened, and honestly, that just pissed me off even more. I started to think about what rebuilding would entail and the thought simply exhausted me. I decided to make a mental list of what I loved, hated, and tolerated about my former pursuits. Some things, I was never going to do again like staying out all night just to meet a venue owner. Other things – like the pride that comes with signing paychecks for people who were able to build a life doing what they loved because of what I created – excited me to even daydream about. I had built my little empire around Hip Hop and it became my whole personality. That’s a story for another day, but my young ego had leaned into what made me successful and not what I actually wanted. One thing for sure, and two things for certain? I walked away from what I had built unfulfilled, having never realized what I intended and there would be no repeats of that.
Even after all that contemplation, I had no idea of what I wanted to do or how to approach anything. I just knew I had a registered company lying dormant that was still eating me up with taxes on money that I was no longer making. I also knew that I was still a strong photographer – even if a little rusty. I started to think about the things that I found both important and motivational. I had a whole list. This polymathic mind always has a good idea ready to fire but the universe doesn’t like fence-sitting. I knew I had some decisions to make. At my wit’s end, I shaved my head one day out of frustration (and probably ADHD boredom). I was mid-shear when I realized that cutting back was the solution I had been looking for.
I had put so much time and money into learning how to do my hair the way YouTube told me I should be doing it, when what really gave me the results I sought was to throw all that stuff in the trash, shave my head, and start over with the training and instinct that lay dormant. As an artist, I had to do the same thing. I unfollowed all the social media that served as “inspo”, stopped thinking about the business aspect, and started to consider who I am now. As a person and as an artist. At my core, I’m a creative whose skills are a little rough around the edges – kinda like my haircut – but my knowledge is solid, so I’m on a journey to re-teach myself, relying on my fine art training and creative instinct. The lesson that I am currently most grateful for is that the basics are the basics for a reason. No matter what problem you need to solve – in life, in business, or in design – simplify and then rebuild. Grease n’ Water, baby.
FIVEPLUG. 