I arrived at Baldwin at a crossroad, in several ways. I knew I wanted to reset, but I also knew that I wanted to take advantage of the space that had been cultivated. With a family home, my life usually evolves in circadian fashion. While at Baldwin, it was good to disrupt that. Doing so allowed me to actualize the direction for two different projects, both inspired by James Baldwin. The first of which, a collection of essays that dissects a futile relationship with Blackness and America as well as a few other cultural interrogations. I also worked on my third poetry collection, which has forced me to stretch the most. Baldwin fostered that growth. I wrote more in one week than I had in the past several years. When I wrote, I wrote, and when I didn't, I wrote in other ways. I was still or walking, or watching the deer graze the property every evening. When the font and text returned, I returned to the page. There was no schedule for anything, a feat which required me to unlearn a deep-seeded production mentality.

What is not pictured here are the many dance breaks throughout the property, including an extended session in the yoga studio to Cleo Sol’s album “Mother.” Among the writing, much writing, there was dancing. For what is a revolution without dancing? To Jacqueline and the whole team, thank you.