32 page offset and risograph artist book, printed Spring 2021
 
while we were watching a rock was cut out, an obelisk, a mound, but not by human hands...they've left a hole in things, and in tha wake of daily death i had to grapple with tha wider purviews of my making; of makers in general, tha violence making has wrought; tha languages razed...tha implicit//explicit dimensions of Black subject erased; this is an unpacking of my placement within that subject; a syncretic kitchen-sink of west-african cosmology, art history, hip hop, tha Black panther party, revolutionary suicide, weed, superheroes, and idk that's all of it i think that functions as both "book" and blueprint for future work; we are on a burning rock, it would b so deeply evil of me as a maker to continue tha cycles that hav rendered countless unmoored, we cannot make to carve a rock; to endlessly supply for an endless demand; we must break structures; form new languages; carve rocks amongst ourselves for ourselves; fail; and most importantly, imagine something better than this; this is tha first in a long-winded attempt to build a better system of making for myself...one that unpacks wider notions of artistic culture, tha voices made illegible by said cultural production, and tha brutally simple calculus of capital that influences and generates product (and tha sticky lines between culture, it's production, and that production's output that follow)...(fuck im rambling)...this is me sitting with tha hole in things...this is sidelong