Art began as a routine reflection for me. I was deep into music production and found myself leaning into
other mediums for inspiration. I had always danced around the idea of expounding upon art forms that
interested me. I had built such a solid foundation and following in music, that the transition seemed
pre-mature and “left-field”. However, the need to do so intensified. I began to notice how much
importance I placed in the marketing stages for my music releases. Keeping everything in-house is how I
picked up graphic design (website, logo, flyers, etc.), sketching, and painting. I studied and formulated
treatments and storyboard layouts. These initiatives started to take precedence over the music and I
found myself spending more time sketching than writing music. My transition into art would begin with
partnerships with brands like Scotch and Soda whereas I would lend my self-taught skills to creative
rollouts from clothes to promotional content.

In 2020, I initiated my shift into visual arts by taking a year hiatus from music, to study and craft. It
resulted in black and white abstract works of iconographic renderings from my Haitian & Jamaican
backgrounds. I fell in love with the heaviness of Japanese ink. I would use one thick black line in
juxtaposition to white canvas and paper to create the pieces. I found this technique to be the best to
show black shape(s) that seems like an accent at first glance. After careful inspection, I reveal to the
viewer how the black shape(s) drape the entirety of the canvas. Whoever is looking, can now unearth the
embedded images I have sketched into the substructure.

I was able to show some of those pieces via a solo exhibition curated by Art Movement Los Angeles in
2020 ‘Faces I ignored’ which featured some of those earlier works. My work had matured by the time I
was invited to be a part of a collaborative exhibition for Soho Beach House Miami in 2021 entitled
‘IMAGINE: An Anthology of Black thoughts’. That same year I was featured in Afropunk’s “Black Spring”

segment to speak about my practice and Afro-Caribbean influence on my work. 2021 would also be the
year I felt the itch to evolve again, which was sparked by reconnecting with Scotch and Soda for a panel
discussion and exhibition “The Style of a Black Man” (Soho Miami Beach House). Preparations for the
show motivated me to explore my fascination with textiles.

As a child, I would watch my father alter his clothes. I was intrigued by how he could transform pre-made
articles of clothing, designed to fit anyone who wears a large, to fit him, and only him. I taught myself
needlework and studied stitch patterns. My friend, colleague, and local poet Arsimmer McCoy
re-introduced to me, Faith Ringgold. It was Ringgold’s “Who’s afraid of Aunt Jemima” where I began to
understand the delicate intricacies that form when merging design and story. Similar to what I always
hoped to achieve when fusing visual art and music. I began creating exaggerated sketches of members
of my community, faces I passed, and family members.

In combining fabric, chicken wire, and wood framing, I am then able to bring those faces off the page to
speak. “Fiber structures” are my large-scaled homages to the physical and societal narratives of black
people. The pictures are portraits and scenes, overstated in upscaled fabrics and intentional tack
structuring; pulling the black face trope on its head, by turning it inside out. Replacing the mockery the
media slathers over black identities and instead pronounces them by adorning those identities in bold
silks, soft satins, and ornament. In June of 2021, I decided to go with this new approach at the request
for two commissioned pieces for the Historic Hampton House in Brownsville, Fl, for a program
commemorating Malcolm X’s birthday. ‘Detroit Red’ and ‘Brother X’ would be the catalyst for my way of
painting with textiles.

I have found myself recently playing between fabrics and hushed-hued oil paints, that run the gambit of
the pastel color wheel. I am involving more flesh, shadows, and exactness in the features. Drawing them
out with the addition of smudging, and torched burning. I mean to re-program the way we ingest our
personas while seeking to understand my process of cultivating the different tiers of my practice. I
understand that it is only through the edifying of the brilliance of the black diaspora, that we can combat
the continuous harmful propaganda forced on the black body. I consider my work an ode to the beauty of
the black face.