Change is the Constant

I saw this quote from another blog that I follow, "When in doubt, write.". It was as simple as that, and when I thought it through it seemed to make the most sense. This formal expression of words and phrase that combine to makeup the purest action I can commit. Thinking isn't part of this, nor is there anything mechanical. Yet, I find myself manufacturing each part just so you keep on reading. I recently won this chance to be published in a literary volume for my school. John Jay's Finest is its title and I supposed that means I am one of those. The finest? Well, I wouldn't go that far, but I came close enough.

Recently came across a documentary on a very interesting 20th century contemporary artist named Jean-Michel Basquiat. He grew up in Brooklyn, NY to a Puerto Rican mother and a Haitian father. Jean-Michel ran away and lived on the streets of SOHO and lower Manhattan. He came into the spotlight after people started noticing his graffiti work under the tag name 'SAMO'. He then took notice in the artistic scene of NYC in the 1980's and exploded with success all the way domestically and internationally. Andy Warhol became one of his best and most famous friends. As most highly intelligent and creative souls Jean-Michel's fame took a toll. Slowly he was allured by hardcore drugs that lead to his early death at the age of 27. Influence goes a long way. This small, but intimate look into Jean-Michel's life captured my attention like no other. Not quite sexual, but definitely as a person to admire. We share many things in common: nationality(mixed Haitians), p

This story as most of my stories do came to me while riding the subway. It is nowhere near complete, but I am not sure how I would finish it anyway. I enjoy writing short stories because the reader can become intimate with the character quickly and the reader is thrust into a story they really know nothing about. It is also much easier to throw in curve balls that make the story worth so much more. Here is something unfinished, but recent Hamster or Human The cold of the linoleum floors startled me out of sleep and I curled into a ball. Everything around me suggested I was in a bathroom, but I had no recollection of how I got there. The porcelain god positioned above my head held the contents of something foul, yet nothing reminded me of a familiar place. I struggled to my feet and tried to turn on the faucet. The few drops that escaped I used to wet my lips, but there wasn't much to be used. The pounding in my head was almost loud enough to blend in with the footsteps appr

Today, I started my internship with Uptown Magazine as the Editorial Intern. It has been a nice and quite easy going process. They shout out ideas to one another, and go over relevant topics all in hopes of securing their place in the mind of Black America. I had an issue with my previous internship with WPLJ Radio because of the lack of black/urban expression, and I have traded that in for the black world here at Uptown. Fact checking, reviewing and meetings will be my life for the next couple of months. For Christmas I was given the book Decoded by Jay-Z, here's what I think: At first I really don't know what I was expecting, but I suppose I could have never guessed. There was no reason to "decode" his lyrics because I had already broken those apart. Instead I was told told a story about Brooklyn, the place that I was born, but had never seen the underbelly of. Storytellers are always painting pictures in the readers mind and those images begin to move and take