Title: Locked in Closets Artist: Solange 248 plays

song: locked in closets
artist: solange
album: true ep

and all i wanted was the dream of being in love with you
all i wanted was the dream of being in love with you
all i wanted was the dream of being in love with you
all i wanted was the dream of being in love with you

6 days ago on 04/16/14 at 08:58pm


We may not speak but it don’t mean I don’t think about you. It means I respect you and your space. Some people I don’t speak to because I don’t respect them. Others because it is out of the utmost respect and out of the desire to do no (more) harm.

He orbit, he don’t hover.

What my homegirl just said about her LOVER. GIRL. #swoon. (via newmodelminority)
Title: Gentle Threat Artist: Chilly Gonzales 20 plays

song: gentle threat
artist: chilly gonzales
album: solo piano

1 week ago on 04/12/14 at 06:49pm

loose change.

  1. i still think it’s stupid that “every time” isn’t one word. add “never mind” to that list as well.
  2. i keep having dreams about him and him. i don’t know. i don’t know. i… don’t know. october is coming to bite me in the ass.
  3. anxiety is so exhausting.
  4. i record him singing all the time. it’s just another way for me to archive his imagination and being— his movement. 
  5. i miss bodies of work. concepts. intention. i miss the creativity that comes from the discipline of working in the confined space(s) of a directed purpose. concentrated expression. 
  6. soon' won't leave my head.  
  7. june jordan understood rhythm— understood space. rahsaan does too.           i’m still learning how to feel/fill mine. the process is scary, but exhilarating. 

change to fund the move.
change to move.

1 week ago on 04/12/14 at 05:09pm


Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn


"Brooklyn, or Bed-Stuy to be exact, is an interesting space to explore and play with black masculinities, especially as a black queer man. When I am walking through my neighborhood I feel black and queer and unrestricted and seen and safe (except for my moments when I encounter police) and cool and connected to the black folk around me. In fact, the “street” is the perfect stage to perform and queer black masculinities. It is one of those spaces where black men and women expand the boundaries that are typically used to confine us. 

Gender is stretched and pulled and reconfigured by black folk in Bed-Stuy in some amazing ways—so much so that it is easy to confuse someone’s sexuality based on the ways they queer gender. I think that particular aspect is dope as hell and radically political. Straight black men and women are often confused as queer (not just in terms of sexual identity, but as a politics and expression of counter-normative ways of being) simply because of the ways they free themselves from gender boxes. How fly is that? How fly is it that queerness becomes the “thing” that one aspires to regardless of her/his/their sexual identity?

For me, fashion is one of the means through which I express and mess with gender. Whether I am rocking some bohemian-esque shirts or street-fresh Tommie hoodie, vintage neckwear or handmade beaded bracelets, a pair of fly ass Jordans or head turning Alejandro Ingelmos, skinny jeans or an expertly tailored suit, I feel perfectly situated “in” my black skin. I feel cool as a black queer man in a black neighborhood where cool is constantly epitomized and re-imagined. I mean Bed-Stuy is so cool that white folk (and black & brown folk who once thought it uncool and unsafe to live in “Do or Die Bed-Stuy”) are moving here in droves. Go figure.

Nonetheless, to be black gay and masculine does not mean that I need to be conventional; queerness frees me to move from the question of who I am as a black masculine body to the more liberatory notion that beyond the way my body is caught up in a system of White racial supremacist hetero-patriarchy, I am someBODY, a human body. In other words, I try to express who the fuck Darnell is as opposed to what my body signifies (and prompts) as a black male masculine-performing body in a hood that is literally policed and increasingly gentrified. 

So, yeah, I feel safe being me on the streets of Bed-Stuy. I feel safe being black queer and masculine…unless I am rocking a hoodie late at night and encounter the police. I guess that’s true of most black bodies inhabiting spaces where we are assailed by police. Shit, that is true of all black folk in America.”

Q + A with Danielle Scruggs — Fortique ›


Fortique posted an interview with me today! Click the link to read more. (Also, I’m available for hire here.)