I went to the beach today.
And; I know. If you’re thinking “Who the hell goes to the beach in Canada on the last week of December?”, then two things:
1. You clearly haven’t been following me long enough; I do this kind of stuff all the time.
2. It was the warmest day of the week, it wasn’t bad.
My first stop was in the marshlands. They had this tower you could go up and look out from the top of. The sky was mostly overcast, with bits of blue peeking through. And the clouds were moving FAST.
It has rained the night before; which meant that every trace of anything having ever walked on the beach before was erased. It felt like walking on the moon. In the direction the wind was coming from, a thin slice of gold lit up the sky…
Knowing I was truly alone; I let music fill me as I walked. @ filtered in my earbuds, syncopated with the sounds of the surf and the buffering of the wind. jboogiejustin
The coastline was golden and inviting, but dipping my hand in revealed it was anything but. Maybe if I had some heated towels and warms arms waiting for me in the car, I might have risked a swim. But not this time.
The clouds churned as I walked; the band of gold growing wider and wider. I headed south along the beach, knowing it could take me forever. I wasn’t going to get another workout today, so I walked until I got tired.
I found a heavy log nestled among some dune cliffs, and sat to meditate as the light grew.
As I sat, the light exploded around me as the sun shot through the opening in the clouds. Instantly everything felt warmer, and I closed my eyes, basking in its glow. This shot is completely unedited; the colours are exactly as they were.
The sun wasn’t long for this hemisphere; and though this was its first appearance of the day, it was ready to rest. The wind picked up, sending waves chopping upward as the sun lit them. The log was cold all alone, so I left it.
It seemed impossible to take a bad photo at this point, nearly everywhere I went seemed stunning. Walking back took much longer, I kept stopping to drink everything in.
As the sun crested the horizon, the water grew dark and glassy, a mirror refracting the dark swirling clouds above.
As I crossed the dunes, the magic faded behind me, and the sky drew dusky. A rustling caught my attention as I pulled my earbuds out. A red heart lay tangled in the branches of some driftwood. The air grew cold and crisp. I breathed deep and walked on.
This piece was written for the publication
#ShutTheHellUp, a Christmas devotional created by Jason Chesnut, Tuhina Verma Rasche, and Tamika Jancewicz.
Those who cry
Since the beginning, you have divided.
Continue reading “Occidental Attack”
Conspire. Jude 20–21
Who said a black man in the Illuminati?
Last time I checked, that was the biggest racist party
Last time I checked, we was racing with Marcus Garvey
On the freeway to Africa ’til I wreck my Audi
And I want everybody to view my autopsy
So you can see exactly where the government had shot me
No conspiracy, my fate is inevitable
They play musical chairs once I’m on that pedestal
—Kendrick Lamar, Hiiipower
Continue reading “Conspire. Jude 20–21”
Graphic created by https://whitehouseinc.org/ I don’t advocate doing any of this. Doing any of these things could be potentially very disruptive for Donald J. Trump’s businesses, which
he has yet to divest himself from.
Continue reading “Alt-Reservations”
Sketch I drew of a trumpeter that later became something else.
white people love
Black performance. Continue reading “Consider Jazz”
6:05 P.M. on Thursday, 4 April 1968: Martin Luther King Jr. lies struggling for life on the balcony of the Lorraine Motel in Memphis, Tennessee after being shot in the face with a sniper rifle. Photo by Louw, a young South African photographer and filmmaker Joseph Louw, who was working on a documentary of Martin Luther King Jr.’s life, and was staying 3 doors down from King. He rushed outside to help when he heard the shot, and there was nothing he could do, he began taking pictures.
MLK was killed.
And people went into uproar.
They cried in anguish because they realized he was a Black man who didn’t deserve to die.
Continue reading “MLK was killed, Beware the Day”
Timothy Caughman, a Black man, was slain in New York City by a white supremacist from Baltimore. Two communities gather to honour Caughman in very different ways.
I went out to take pictures.
People gather to remember in Hampden (where the white supremacist murderer lived) to remember Timothy Caughman.
Continue reading “A Tale of Two Vigils”
2 years ago, Baltimore experienced a movement beginning that would change it forever. While I published these photos on
Instagram and Twitter, I never compiled them into a full story. Continue reading “The Baltimore Uprising: What I saw”