My job is to tell the best story possible and to move people without them knowing.
We are post-reality. We choose which narratives we believe each day. Often they are the ones that appear most sexy.
We aren't what we know, but what we consume — each of us reverting to our default settings at end of day, because no one's got time to ponder complexities when they are trying to make rent.
The full story is messy, with more ands & buts than anyone wants to sit with. There is no shortage of facts, and even those aren't objective.
We live under the most manipulative algorithms of all time. Each person lives in their own bubble, breathing more of the same breath.
I want to pop it, one jab at a time. Gift people air they didn't know they needed and hear the gasps.
I am building bridges so others can join me in the future I want to see, and I sincerely hope that this mirror I'm building reflects us both.
Branding's for companies, not people. And the two ought not be conflated.
We are much too obsessed with comprehension. Sometimes it's better to let a thought be understood. Stop the conversation at "I get what you mean" — no but, no and, no icing. Leave it at Yellow Cake.
Go for it. Make people feel something. An audience should never leave feeling meh.
Be uncertain. Do the work, make one-offs — then put it out and let the result surprise you. We never quite know what will resonate with audiences and become a cultural fixture or permanent mutation.
The future is worth fighting for.
I make grand ideas land.
CV available upon request.
A DC-rooted dystopian satire about a Black family, a brand deal gone wrong, and what it costs to take your own story back.
What's feeding the work.
Pulled from Are.na — links, images, and things worth holding.
Erything else.
leave something. visitors past and present.
Chicken Lady is a full-length dystopian satire about a Black family in DC whose lives get tangled up with a corporation that turned their mother into a brand. She signed a deal she couldn't get out of, and when she couldn't perform anymore, the company came after her son.
It's a play about artistic exploitation, gentrification, and what happens when the only people who can put you back together are the ones who actually know your name.
The whole piece is built from real DC voices and runs on a constant soundscape of construction. The city is literally being rebuilt around these characters as they fight to hold onto who they are.
