Abide With Me
Some writings on what I'm calling the Black Backstage, that will become a series and solo exhibition in the near future.
John and Alice Coltrane’s grandson is dating Pharoah Sanders’ daughter
Being a daughter backstage I meditate my mother’s romances with Willie Hutch and Charlie Murphy after the death of my father. I charm her suitors or deter them. I watch Willie work in his studio in Inglewood as if my father has passed him a glittering and cautionary baton. My scrutiny marred by feeling inconvenienced, even as a child. Why am I backstage instead of playing with my friends after school? What is this constant need to be making an original sound that haunts me and hunts me?