When drawing I was always aware of the hand,the shadow of my thumb, sound of the contact – skin on paper, point to plane

The wonderful revelation of the mark made but also the act of making the mark, not pissing on a lamppost but the innocent joy of presence in the now of the act | body | space

Black thought raps of audacity, intelligence, honour and hope in a solidly structured pace of gifted knowledge

Freestyling presents a chimera of authenticity draped over hard won victories of rhyme and graft

audacity of hope has lodged itself here as a nugget of potential