My earliest memories of art go back to those years
When being arrested was a black man's rite of passage
When you couldn't trust anyone who hadn't been photographed in handcuffs with blood on his gaze
When my father's black belt got us backstage with Ray Charles holding his perfect hand while he told us how we looked in sound. Nostalgia just got lethal or always has been the one thing even renewal cannot cope with is how much better it felt to suffer than it does trust this freedom
