I can't breathe.

"I will always be a black man.

The black always comes before the man. The black always comes before my humanity. Before I speak and even after the words leave my mouth. The color of my skin will always be first in what people see when they see me."

This piece starts from that thought, which was etched into me when I was hit by a baton during the George Floyd protests in Hollywood Boulevard in Los Angeles, California.

The black and white choices of the type and space were intentional. It is a reflection of my grappling with race and at that moment.

During a fit of anxiety, I recorded myself with labored breathing while attempting to calm down. Now, this piece works to calm me and reminds me that it is all a part of the cycle. I am still here. I am present.

I can't. I can. I will. I will. I can. I can't. I can't. I can. I will.