It was January 2011 and my first child was on the way.
Money was tight, and me and the woman I had just given a child were not on the best terms. I was scarred.
I knew this pipedream of being some big shot entertainer and rap artist that sold by the thousands was becoming more of a far fetched fantasy then a realistic goal. That couldn’t feed my daughter. That couldn’t pay the rent. Priorities clearly had shifted since the megaton bomb that was a pregnancy test flipped my world upside right.
I was scarred. I knew that I needed to become a Man. I never felt that I had to become a man. Wading through life as an innocent boy had been doing well for me up to this point. Not having responsibility, nobody to answer to. Just a teenage dreamer with a grown man’s accessibility. I was a mess.
In the months that would come, I came nowhere near a pen, nowhere near a beat, nowhere near a song. I wanted nothing to do with it. I was finished.
I needed a new job. I needed to set things right to be a man. A REAL man. Family first.
Many sleepless nights of tireless working on my graphic design and flash projects. Pouring all my creative juices into trying to fix a broken train track and hope that the pieces prevent the derailing of the loud, convienient, content Marta ride I’d been on the past 3 years of my Atlanta life.
Lost in my religion. I forgot about prayer.
I thought about so many things, so many problems, so many questions.
I almost drove myself mad.
Then one day it hit me, to remember what got me here in the first place. My faith.
I prayed in an elevator going to the 15th floor. Coming back from a lunch break to a job that had literally cock-blocked me from any type of promotion to support my upcoming family.
Suddenly, I had no fear.
I got a new job.
I got a new child 10 days later.
I still hadn’t touched music in what now seemed like forever.
Words from my childs mother changed all that: “How can you teach your daughter to go for her dreams, if you give up on yours”.
Never forget those words. It encouraged me to get back to writing for one last hurrah, maybe, one last goodbye to what I’d known as my previous life.
That encouragment evovled into “Bang Wit It”. The people…………the people supported strong. I saw that I still had some fire left and something to bring to this art I love.
I set out on a mission. A mission based on what life taught me in the previous months.
It’s time to create the best version of me possible. The ‘superhero’ version of me. The guy that can catch a bullet with his teeth. The guy that would take a bullet before he ever again forgot he had the ability to catch it.
I set out in music, and in my life, to create the strongest, most dedicated, and determined version of self I could.
In other words, become a man.
Art imitates life. In my case, its never vice versa.
I paint to my storyline, my spirit, my day to day what-the-fuck-is-happening, my dreams, my ego, my disappointment, my excitement, my motivation, my losses, my wins.
Somebody else would have to tell you if my life ever imitates art.
SUPERNOVA is an imitation of my life in all things. I made it to embody the creation of a new self. A stronger self. A bolder self.
The superhero version of my self.
That’s the guy that can father a child, take care of his family, reach his goals, dreams and aspirations.
And if anything stands in his way………….may GOD have mercy on its soul.