Time, energy, friction. Loyalty above all. Elements we strangle in this era of “doing what you want, when you want”. A dream we’re sold that makes flaccid autonomy, making it impossible to grow much of anything. Much less community.

Why it matters: Community takes root when the same people show up, often enough to bypass small talk and get to our issues, passions too. That’s when you notice someone who needs to be seen, and offer them presence without them having to ask.

Being optional on community dries up its nutrients. Our shared understanding goes barren, the hosts burn out. So we go back to scrolling. Replacing connection with stimulation, then questioning this loneliness we quietly made for ourselves.

Sacrifice is the missing element.

A choice to get involved, even when we don’t feeeeel like it. It’s an investment that matters. So I’d like to go deeper with solutions:

• Find / support / create a weekly ritual. Workouts, reading, dining, whatever. Same place, same time, regardless of who shows up. A quote that rings true, “If you want to start running, don’t wait for people, just do it. In time, the people will find you.”

• Support the host(s). Offering a hand, supporting their events, and rotating hosting if it’s more informal. At the heart of community is mutual contribution, rather than expectant consumption. We should all have pride in our ability to do something useful.

• It’s always that damn phone. When you’re with people, accept the challenge to put phones away. It’s hard, but we’re capable. These mushes of copper and titanium have existed for a couple decades. Human presence is way older, way stronger.

The virtuous cycle of sacrifice: Show up, contribute, repeat.

Guests left with smiles, cloaked in gratitude for the first IN-SEASON dinner. And alI I felt was guilt.

I’d done little prep. Printed no menus. Led a flimsy service walkthrough. Played music I only updated between courses. A bunch of lazy choices that can’t be excused by being a novice to hospitality.

Those failures became a list to attack in the weeks, days and hours ahead IN-SEASON 2. A promise to never wing it again.

Fast-forward last Thursday. The aforementioned… IN-SEASON 2.

Chef Tea came sharp, again. Her courses for thirteen guests were distributed by three waiters. We proudly set every course in under a minute.

Matte menus with handwritten ingredients for each course gained stains as Rosalia’s LUX bled into D’Angelo’s Black Messiah. Our U-shaped table set up held the hum of connection. Only quiet when we set each course. Mashallah. I did my part this time.

The sweet thing about progress is the clarity it gives.

By the time our guests left with bouquets in hand, Chef Tea, our serving team (Dom, Jabari) and lead creative (Storko) made a voice note on what we can do better:

1. Immediately thought about lighting, a bit cold inside the art gallery. We relied on the venue to have color options, but that was an assumption our guests paid for. A simple light rental could have warmed the space up. Noted.

1. Florals too. That morning’s visit to LA’s Flower District made me feel romantic. Until I unwrapped solidagos and eucalypti to see the loooongest stems. I scrambled, until Storko revealed his past as a flower shop employee… Clutch. We made the florals work in a V-formation, hanging over the opposite side of every guest in alignment to Chef Tea’s plating. Better execution will come when we bring in a partner to set florals and table settings. Noted.

Humility follows us like the seasons. We cherish it by accepting these lessons in the moment. The primary one:

1. The more you host, the better you serve.

Showing up early, like weeks early, enables us to action our curiosities of community shares flavor. That effort lets the room glow with warmth, from the ceiling to the floor.

Inshallah, IN-SEASON 3 is in 3 weeks. Keep up with us to see what we improve next.

Chef Tea - dripped in that VIJN black/brown two-toned JACKET - brought us to the Santa Monica Farmer’s Market a few weeks back.

Often big gaps between my farmer’s market visits but every time I pull up, I’m grateful for it. Weaving through people, dodging strollers and overly huge dogs. I leave with random things like a bag of carrots still covered in the soil it was picked from.

But this visit was different.

The Market felt sacred with Chef Tea. A sprawling, plus-sign shaped mosaic of 60+ farmers from around Southern California. I got to see it from an artist’s point of view and with every step and touch, I felt like I was being reintroduced to food.

So it's looking into the future and closing my eyes and saying what black and brown people should be eating, and that's that's what I produce.

And if I don't, it haunts me.

Born and raised in Los Angeles, Chef Tea tells multi-sensory stories through cuisine. Taste intentionally crafted with the best in-season ingredients we can get in LA.

I met Chef a month after we debuted the Nest in September. It was a warm fall day at SPACE(S), the iconic home of Bricks & Wood in Mid-City, LA.

Chef’s culinary collective Little Los Angeles had the back patio booming with this fragrance of allspice. The grill was turnt, so I found my feet, nose, and hands on Sherlock Holmes, damn near tweaking for a taste of the best jerk chicken in the city.

On the second of four firings, I got a bite… My eyes were closed for thyme… only opening as I rolled on the ground, breathing deeply and grunting at the vibrant flavors I’d only tasted on a 2017 trip to Negril, Jamaica.

That was probably the best introduction I’ve ever had with anyone.

Since that day, we’ve built our friendship and creative partnership that keeps challenging how I see food, seasonality, and the act of bringing people together.

Tea’s work is about time, touch, and trust in what the Earth is offering right now. While roaming the Santa Monica Farmer’s Market, we have a conversation about what it means to work in season and just how she’s learned (and still learning) to listen:

Walking and Talking

Cherif: How or when did you fall in love with cooking?

Tea: Hmm. I feel like cooking has followed me my whole life. Almost like a boogeyman. And then when I looked in the closet, it was actually not a closet—it was the kitchen.

And so from there, I just kept following it back, and it's gotten me here. I’m allowing it to keep unveiling itself to me. I’m finding myself more and more through the cuisine I decide to put on the table, which is an Afro-futurist cuisine.

It’s really leaning into my foresight as a human being and including that into my career path—which is also tied into my purpose.

It’s looking into the future and closing my eyes and saying what Black and Brown people should be eating. And if I don’t cook it… it haunts me.

C: When do you stop shopping and start cooking in your head?

T: The moment I touch the actual produce I’ll be working with. From there I can determine how ripe it is, what texture it has, how long I want to cook it, what kind of fat I’ll use. It all starts in the hand.

C: What’s a texture you avoid, even when the flavor is perfect?

T: I try to avoid anything overripe, unless I’m planning to make it into a sauce or puree. Then I can highlight the flavor while smoothing out the texture. But yeah, texture’s got to be right.

C: What’s the hardest ingredient to shop for?

T: Watermelon. People swear there are tricks, but there’s no trick. You just get lucky or you don’t. Or it’s in season or it’s not. Laughs

On Seasonality, Purpose, and Limitation

C: Talk to me more about what’s in season now (late May)?

T: Right now in California? Citrus looks beautiful. Cherries are sweet. Strawberries are still really nice. So that’s what I’d suggest people lean toward at the market—berries, broccolini, cauliflower, cherries, citrus, grapefruit, lemons, navel oranges, tangerines…

C: Naval oranges the ones that look like nipples?

T: Laughs… Yes, Cherif.

C: What does “farm to table” mean to you?

T: It means being intimate with what the Earth is producing right now—and being able to showcase that. It’s a partnership. When I shop at the farmers market, it’s a conversation I’m having. Then I translate it through cooking. Then it lands on the table.

I had a thought here, maybe you can answer it too:

What am I forcing into my routine that isn’t in season?

C: Why accept the limitations of seasonality?

T: It’s inconvenient, yes. But it’s also a commitment. Convenience has spoiled us. Grocery stores have convinced us that we can have anything year-round—and that’s just not true.

We’re forcing ingredients to exist out of rhythm. And you can taste that. When you work in season, you don’t have to manipulate much. The Earth already did the work.

C: Tell me more about that—working in partnership with the Earth.

T: It’s listening to what the Earth is giving, and following that. Not forcing things into being. There’s already abundance. We just have to highlight it, not control it.

The Process

C: What steps do you go through to do your work correctly?

T: Research…. reading….really geeking out. If I want to add lemon to a dish, I might research five kinds of lemons. I’ll try each one until I find the one that resonates most with what I’m cooking. That curiosity is part of the love.

What I Took Home

Back in the whip, I filled up the passenger seat with different citrus and this one vegetable I still can’t name.

More importantly, Chef Tea left me with a deeper sense of the value of rhythm. Coming from corporate marketing, with a drive to build VIJN as this design company obsessed with real life, I find myself forcing completion.

To strive, to execute ideas, often at friction with the seasons.

Chef Tea’s approach dusted off my why.

Our conversation reflects the intentionality I want to be present in every piece of writing, every object we design, and certainly every time we bring people together.

With the patience and diligence of tracking seasonality, knowing what the Earth, my community, and my own soul need, our work at VIJN, in partnership with the greats like Chef Tea and Little Los Angeles will speak on its own time.

As we grow host more and create more via TACTILE, this is the clarity I want to lead with. And Chef just thought I just wanted to spy on where she gets her ingredients !

Thank you, Chef Tea.

Coming Soon

We’ll be releasing debuting a dining series with Chef Tea later this year. If you're curious about joining—or just want more stories—subscribe and stay close.

My backseat is a mess !!!

Hands at 10 and 2, I caught the image in the mirror: mancala sets, chess boards, two rolls of nylon fabric. This goofy, yet satisfying collage of my last 76 hours.

Fatigue that was pulling on my shoulders got lighter at this exact point. Processing the fact that we’d done two events in three days, I felt like VIJN was really doing what it was always meant to do:

Bring people together.

My Problem with Socializing

I love people… but I also love being home before the sun goes down.

These loves don’t often sync as I walk around confused to see socializing packaged as loud music, sticky floors, and forgotten names. It only sounds like sensory overload and bad decisions to me... but I do have hater sensibilities fr.

You wouldn’t believe my disdain for having to shout my name into someone’s ear…

So I plotted on some solutions.

Event concepts that give context to the objects we design, ideas that couldn’t start with a mood board. I found references in the spirit of teraanga–an ethos of hospitality in Senegal we hoist as our call to honor.

I started hosting these jollof brunches on Sundays after we got early samples of The Nest, our first ceramic product.

After the pulse of my living room calmed from 10-12 people in alignment, I’d get these long, heartfelt texts:

Seeing new friendships form through better behaviors set this new standard for how we can offer a communal value.

When we launched The Nest, we hosted a no-table dinner party for 25.

That one night unlocked our debut product for the about six months. Supporting Iftar dinners during Ramadan, creating an interactive dinner at Joyce DTLA, even loaning 20-30 bowls at a time to friends starting their own dinner series.

Our bowls became this entry point to better socializing, an honor we set to expand upon.

From Bowls to Jackets to Events

Launching the JACKET pushed us beyond potent flavors. It set a route to do more for our community, including the debut of this Substack.

Originating as a platform to show how writing as a design practice, TACTILE quickly grew into the umbrella for all our gatherings.

In May 2025, we launched two new formats—just three days apart:

1. TACTILE: Communal Fitting

A luxury shopping kickback where participation is the product. Activated by three zones inside Soho Warehouse’s Drawing Room:

• A white glove try-on station, guiding guests through our nylon silhouettes.

• A sonic landscape from VIM! Soundsystem—deep African cuts, zipper textures, layered nature.

• A 12-foot design table with designer Nicole Villamil, where guests drew on jacket pattern pieces.

Enjoyment was abundant as the homies made their love for product two evident.

I still found myself irked… noticing people stayed on their feet all night… I wanted people to sit, get familiar, really loiter. The space we organized had plenty of seating, but it went unused.

Hindsight gives me the clarity that we didn’t give the furniture a job.

Lesson: If you want people to sit around and set an ambiance, give them a reason—reading materials, snacks, games. Furniture alone can’t enable connection. The loitering necessary for people to feel at home sits on the other side of context. Use what you have to its best and clearest ability.

2. TACTILE: Gameday

Because playing around never needed to wait for game night.

At Black Line Coffee, right beside LA’s vibrant Secret Walls, we laid out chess, mancala, and Connect Four. People showed up solo, paired off, and made new friends as Julian Cullars set the mood on guitar. Bro really played solo four hours !

The on-site gallery opened up their garage doors, adding an art show to the mix.

And the best part: the sun was still out.

In the midst of shaking hands and kissing babies, it slipped my mind that pleeenty of people didn’t know how to play these games. Chess and mancala sparked hella curiosity, but many didn’t know how to play and no one was there to solve that...

Lesson: Instructional design is part of event design. Curiosity without guidance is this missed opportunity to make people feel seen, then supported. We can inject that element of teaching to make participation readily accessible.

What I’ve Learned (So Far)

Two events in three days confirmed what I suspected: People are reaaally hungry for connection—and finally, it’s not only the turnt kind they’re seeking.

I did my post-mortem over a cardamom bun and a one shot cortado (I’m geekin rn). Post sip clarity set 22 points to consider sit in my notebook ahead of our next events.

Below are the three I’d like to share with you:

1. Set the Objective First

I found myself underwhelmed at the sales of the JACKET at our event…

Sure, we brought people together and gave a new experience for a garment. Reflection made it clear that I hadn’t defined an objective for the event. The question to answer first was, “Is this a sales moment or a brand moment?”

Before planning out any offering to people, its vital to know the answer to very simple questions like these and only then can planning commence.

If it’s about sales, we get to build in details like limited-edition packaging, charitable tie-ins, incentives to purchase. If it’s about brand, we get to create a physical takeaways, like a material swatch, that reinforces what we stand for.

Really all these ideas would’ve been key, if only we answered the objective first.

2. Clear That Calendar on Event Day

I was still editing pieces for this Substack, coordinating shipping with my fulfillment center, and sending custom invites on the day-of. That left me feeling rushed during set-up, seemingly no one else could tell, but I forsuuuurely could.

And that energy seeps into subtle missteps that can eat up the attention we’re working so hard to earn and serve.

I learned to arrive early, plan the pre-production earlier. Give myself enough space to lead like a host, not just execute like a producer.

3. Over-Brief Your Team

I under-briefed mine. That led to questions like “Where can I buy the JACKET?” going unanswered at the try-on station. That’s on me fr.

Over-briefing does a couple things, namely clarifying what roles are necessary and need additional bodies, while preparing everyone to know what everyone is there for.

It’s a key element to gauge how our roles, from PA to producer to host, flow so we can build together as a unit.

The element of over-briefing can seem daunting and alienating, but I believe it doesn’t kill creativity—it unlocks clarity. Defining roles and what success means for each person involved creates the connective tissue we need to find shared nuance.

At the End of the Day

The exercise of event production is humbling for someone like me.

I never grew up throwing parties or hosting at my crib, so creating the spaces I’ve wanted to exist is exhilarating… and tiring.

With velocity of output comes information on how to share the work, be present from the start, and use that to offer tactile value beyond my own needs. It’s a muscle I intend to keep sharpening.

As you’ve read this far, comment what kinds of gatherings you plan to host—or what you’ve learned from ones you’ve attended.

I’ll keep circling back with more lessons in bringing people together.

With gratitude,

CHERIF

I think back to the coldest images in football history. Pre-match to be specific. Players would enter stadiums as thousands of people take up space in and out of the stadia, singing anthems aligned with their city’s values.

Youuuu’ll Neeeever Waaaaalk, Aloooone. Or a national anthem. Or the Champions League anthem. Keeping the players warm with various textures, anthem jackets quietly stamped the work that led up to this moment. A garment only worn by the starters, the ones about to perform in real time.

As we sought to expand our tactile obsession, anthem jackets offered a space to explore texture. First, we needed to make our own shape.

For nearly a year, we developed our handmade pattern with cut and sow artisans in Los Angeles. Over 11 iterations, the JACKET became a canvas for material play.

We manipulated nylon into butter soft handfeels. We set beads in chest patterns, wanting nuance in that execution opened up a rabbit hole we gladly dived into. Going back and forth on where to set the material overlay. Eventually landing on a shoulder trim, enabling us to hand set a tactile surprise to an ultra functional garment.

Nylons for the body, bemberg on the lining, and steel beads on certain versions. We went deep enough to expand our tactile language into something we can wear.

The two-tone Black/Brown version enabled us to make a water-resistant jacket that styles as a statement piece. Composed with a denier nylon sourced from Taiwan, we wanted tactical, gorp performance without the forever chemicals attached to traditional raincoats.

The single tone Green version offers a lighter body that’s steady glistening when the sun beams on us. A choice of nylon upholding our standard for skin contact, ensuring clean interaction between lining and body every time.

We made 50 total garments, 25 of each color with half of each getting steel beads.

About 12-13 of each version above will be available, exclusively at vijn.co.

Our intention is to use this drop to learn what our community needs in a jacket. Enabling us to iterate faster. See more at our updated site. Appreciate you gang.

A slow rush of sound followed. Hella voices, tew much light. I’d just taken off this blindfold, now I’m trapped in a dark room scattered with… stars ?

I couldn’t think straight, but I felt everything. Overwhelmed, distracted. Loved.

My retinas settled into an image of my community in one frame. Hugs, daps, and kisses shared while my bruddas thought I was crying for show.

But thugs don’t cry !!! I was just tryna open my eyes !

Thirty or so friends–new and familiar–swarmed me as I stepped into 29 years of age. Arm in arm with the conspirators of this chaos, we walked around the studio they booked. First stop: a table full of Fleurs et Sel cookies, LA’s best–shoutout to Lara.

A buttery medley of chocolate chips and oatmeal slowed my attention to see the room. A panoramic view of the guys posed like a K-Pop group at the wall sized cyc.

Swivel to the left, Raph is weaving deep cuts from Toro y Moi and Awilo Longomba. Swivel to the right, friends mushing into each other to make the photo booth frame. A man peddling churros crossed my sight, grinning knowing this isn’t his usual gig.

This moment was a lil over two years ago, yet these feelings remain potent only because all my senses were animated, at once.

Our senses are the foundation of our memories.

Think about yesterday. I bet your first flashbacks savor what you ate, the song you sang in the whip. Those cold sheets when you laid your heaaaaad, on that pillow.

Touch, sight, sound, smell, and taste link as this chassis, driving us through the turnt and the mundane. Most moments fade as we tap one or two of our senses at a time.

We chase completion of the day with no conscious experience. But when we animate all our senses, moments are shaped into memories.

Digging into this approach to life, the word neuroplasticity kept popping up.

A term I see as a malleable simplification of how our brains work. We take material from our senses to create these imprints, patterns that grow clearer with each new experience. With time, relatively quickly when we’re safe and having fun, we move past thinking and go deeper into feeling.

That’s what makes memories sticky. A gem from an OG crystalized this for me:

“Young fella, if you want her affection, give her attention plenty to mention”

I had to be like 12 at jiu jitsu, for sure not dating anything, just tryna grapple…

But those words stuck. He was right though. When we’re trying to learn someone, there’s plenty use in using all our senses to find the right fit.

This often starts at a restaurant. A warm light over our corner booth, close enough for knees and shoulders to touch. The bass in my voice matches the melody in hers. A waiter pulls up for the third time– but our eyes never made it down to the menu.

At some point, a mix of entrees takes up space on the table.

Salty, sweet, umami as we question if they’re playing a playlist we made. The whole time, the contours of her clavicle held my focus. Three hours pass before we look around… we’re the only guests in the restaurant.

The staff beeeeeeen needing us to get out…

I hold her hand and open the door, realizing I never had to force anything. I simply gave her senses plenty to hold onto.

That same choice– to engulf ourselves–can shape any moment offline.

To leave our phones at home on a walk. To journal our memories, letting the pen strokes soundtrack our memory.

Animating our senses is only as complex as we make it.

I simplify this daily by:

1. Turning chores into meditation. I’m savoring that last bite as the faucet opens and the unmistakable sound of water fills the room. Suds build up as my fingers slip, finding stability in the grooves of my favorite bowl. That sponge I’ve should’ve replaced time ago expands, feeling the grains of rice my fork couldn’t catch. A clean bowl catches the light as this hand towel dries it. I woulda missed all this if I let the dishwasher win.

2. Upgrade your hand goods. We treat dense materials with more respect. A favorite mug. That one Japanese knife. I ditched paper and plastic tableware to cop weighty ceramic pieces I treasure, moving around my space with the same feeling I get with my favorite garments.

3. See how long you can go without a screen, daily. I often lay on the ground with my phone in the other room, just to see how long before I drift to it. Each time, I notice the faint sounds of leaves bristling, the cold panels of my wooden floors, where the sun enters each room at different hours. Your house only becomes your home when you know how it flows.

Actively using our senses is the difference between setting the tone in our lives or accepting what comes our way.

We never needed more time or control. We need to be present and through our senses, new memories are always in reach.

Kendrick won because he made it us versus them.

He went on to explain that winning means someone lost. Duh… tell me more, I said.

Rappers, brands, movements all need an enemy to point at. That moment we all get to pointing is where community ties come alive, then getting people to spend their money on your agenda is easy.

I could feel my blood pressure escalate…

That line of agitation was never considered for VIJN. I’ve been building this community with belief that touch centers us into the now. Designing as a way to help myself and others host more, create more, and do more by the strength of our hands.

Hella wholesome.

As time let me see his argument in dimensions, our enemy made itself clear:

Ease.

Ease is oppy-anna numero uno. Like Riley and Santa, for those (like me) who learned to hate through episodes of The Boondocks.

Not the comfort of relaxation, not the necessary empathy along my journey.

But the ease of instant gratification.

When I’m hungry, I can tap my phone nine times and outside of my door, a meal arrived in a dash. If I hate my couch, nine more taps and Bobois bubbles take up space in my living room. Days later, the dupe sucks and I’m wondering… how ?

Well… I bought a couch with no sweat. The materials and colors are off because I didn’t earn it fr. No swatches, no references, no story. Just air inflating…

My opposition comes from this growing dynasty. A long running era of businesses working to engineering friction out of our lives, selling ease on a subscription model.

As completion of our needs are outsourced to tech, accepting friction becomes this needed antidote. A companion to the fulfillment our bodies are made to pursue.

Our best memories consist of friction, serialized for repeat views. That personal best in the gym. That IKEA table you built yourself, once just lay flat. Your nephew, born early, but healthy mashallah.

Friction creates investment and that investment unearths pride we can hold onto.

Of late, the homies been skipping dinners out, saving money, cooking at home. At first, I saw this as a loss keeping us in isolated bubbles around Los Angeles. Making ease my antagonist flips that idea on its head.

Cooking is nothing but friction.

Grocery lists tee up seasoning, sautéing, and serving potent flavors. Washing dishes becomes this scenic climax of hot water, soap suds, and slippery tableware. A final test we can dominate, getting over that last hump in this circle of consumption.

It’s all real enough for us to remember the joy of completion. The necessity of friction.

With time, we end up developing undervalued skills in an era of gratification. Skills like hosting at home. Either cheffing up or ordering big, then leaving the door open to friends. No splitting bills or tipping, just quality time together curated by friction.

Leaning into friction challenges my point of view daily. From the foods I eat to the objects I use. Moving past annoyance into solutions, I upgrade my tools. Dense ceramics, real silverware. Not just to host, but for me to enjoy daily.

Most objects you can buy in a click simply take up space. Great objects you search for and acquire can make our daily habits meditative, even the messy ones.

As my home reflects this, I end up embracing silence more often. Laying out, with no music, no pods, at least some parts of the day, especially when I want that “accompaniment” the most.

Consistent silence is often all our mental health needs to heal.

My will is getting tested when my space is quiet. I left my phone in the kitchen, so how long can I go without it ? Observing my space and feeling the air flowing through it.

The friction I feel was the peace my body was asking for.

Everything we love—people, objects, feelings—came from effort. Friction is the toll we pay for feeling something real and it’s time we start paying it again.

At least I assume… Cause bowls are shaped for what goes inside. Consider the cascading walls of a ramen bowl. The shallow flare of a catch-all, short all around for jewelry and keys. Ceramicists obsess over depth, glazes, and clay bodies, but rarely the hands that hold it.

That’s funny, knowing most uses of bowls start and end at our fingertips.

One year into throwing more accidents than flawless bowls, I ramped into lucidity. Every bowl I made was sittin’ sideways, slouched as people in the stu smiled at the ‘character’ of my work. A shorthand slight for nice try.

A solo night at Bitter Root Studio, I was feeling out a bowl in the process of drying. My fingers traced these grooves I hadn’t meant to create. Resting in pockets of space. Cozy… Secure enough for me to fake spiking it like a football. Real crash out chit.

In the middle of doing a lot, an epiphany: Make a bowl for my hands, on purpose.

I had trouble sleeping that night. Tossing and turning as this objective became a paragraph.

We should make bowls for hands. Making it easy to pass potent flavors from hand to hand. A shape so ready for our hands, even washing dishes becomes a natural, fidgety act, like a child playing in water.

That text lit a spark between a close friend and I. They also threw ceramics, amongst many hobbies, in their work as an engineer. Someone with the ability to illustrate ideas with technical drawings.

Between our solo practices of throwing, I used words to add value to our tactile exploration.

The bowls need to fit like a glove, and I feel like it can happen on the walls. Rather than straight lines between 65 and 150 degrees, let’s lean into a wall we can grip. Think about where our index, middle, and ring fingers go as we reach, knowing the pinky will follow.

The homie saw it clear, producing about 20 CADs with various protrusions, lumps, dips, and curves. I sat for hours on my phone’s 3D visualizer twirling the cups and bowls they visualized. My eyes pulsated. My brain made sense of these shapes, guessing how’d it could actually work.

One particular approach spoke to us early.

A simple shape with two divots on its exterior, creating a Stonewall jawline from its side. Even digitally, I could sense where my fingers would fall. It felt right.

I think you did your big one here. There’s a simplicity to this wall. The double layer build sets some graft for stability. That vertical C-shaped curve should let the top and bottom of our palms clasp it for security.

One big problem: We simply weren’t ready to throw this shape. Our hands and feet couldn’t manipulate the wheel for this precision. So we pivoted.

Slipcasting became the play.

I arrived to Charlotte ready to see friends, catch Khruangbin that night, and finally… grab our bowl. Well, 3D printed. Still, real.

The high trees of a suburban neighborhood softened the afternoon beams. A delicate backdrop for what turned out to be the brightest revelation.

My friend’s friend had converted their garage into a slipcasting space. Right next to her husband’s 3D printing service. Wicked convenience we used to iterate.

I’m starting to notice there’s curves on curves. The two divots create three surfaces on the wall. Each about an inch in height. Each gives us a new point of leverage. The bottom divot curls to the bowl foot, where our pinky and ring fingers rest. The middle divot is straight for this middle finger. The top divot curls like a J, where the vessel opens up.

I tip toe’d into the backyard, as this print was handed to me.

My eyes darted. My fingers struck exactly where we wanted em’ to. As my heart raced, eye contact bounced around as we got to geeking. We made something new.

That was three years ago Plenty has changed, especially how that sequence of time shaped my perspective on language. Amidst a fluid skillset of throwing ceramics, slipcasting became a bridge to intentionally shaping something new.

Between my friend, their friends, the ceramicists of Tik Tok, and 3D printing savants, I could’ve gotten lost in their technical prowesses.

If only my own strength in words hadn’t made itself clear before I could try to find it.

Writing was my contribution to design.

Pulling references from other tactile sources to imagine new wall structures. Taking my time to put words together. Letters, sounds, and tone–guiding my partners toward decisions big and small.

As this bowl became the foundation of the Nest. the first product from our tactile design company VIJN. I saw myself clearly.

I’m a writer. Writing things into existence.

If you make things too, or been debating trying, here’s how words will help you build:

1. Write your references out. We hoard visuals that move us. Never let them be passive. Organize them. Make themed folders, name those mood boards. Did you know your Photos app enables captions below each image ? I didn’t until last week fr. Describe what you see in curves, colors, and materials, especially when the words have to be made up.

2. Describe the feelings you like. Yes, emotionally, if you want. But in our case, think texture, weight, heat. Write about objects how novelists write about characters and people. As often as you can. Simply knowing why you appreciate things will sharpen your pen, so you can bend words to your will.

3. Try more hand crafts. Before ceramics, I started with pants. Learning to make tech packs and patterns taught me the blueprint mindset for objects. Subtle cross pollination that walked us into 3D printing and eventually, slipcasting for bowls. Every craft showed me the tight connections of making and the tactile vocabulary across categories.

Words shape worlds. Technical skills or not, writing can be your most tactile tool.

Most thinkers and doers assume writing is only for expressing thoughts. At its most vibrant and direct, writing shapes form. Inshallah the Nest–and everything we build at VIJN–starts as language we sharpen all the way to your hands.

Writing is a design practice.

Stick with us on TACTILE. This truth stretches across every step in making things real.

The endorphins from ticking tasks lists or mood boarding don’t find their way to my fingertips. All my hands can do is act. And that’s the best feature of these callused, nine inch mitts.

This “grab first, think later” motif is how ceramics became an obsession in 2021. A novel hobby for most is the craft that produces all the plates, bowls, and mugs we use daily. It’s a practice I couldn’t wrap my brain around, but gave me plenty to hold onto from jump.

I dreamt big… Early too !

VIJNs of pulling up on women I like, gifting them earthy vases and big ass bowls. Seeding them vessels for birthdays while my peers thought bottles were enough. These mitts had bigger, less thirsty plans.

They steered me to LA’s Bitter Root studio, y’all know, in front of that pink spot with the tacos.

I parked, put on an apron, and sliced a piece of wet clay. Haphazardly rolling a ball full of air pockets on this ashy communal table. Slapping this lump of clay unto the wheel gave me a rush. This child-like sensation where my brain and hands linked thru chaos.

Letting my feet get involved, the wheel spun tooooo fast and my fingers got loose…

Then the clay collapsed.

Each time this happened (plenty, every time, every day) I would grin, with all thirty one teeth out. A sensation I couldn’t place because my hands accepted a challenge my mind couldn’t back out of.

I made friends at the stu who went through the same motions. The ones who found their style in the graft of their hands and the patience of their feet. It was never that dream of vases or big ass bowls that fulfilled me.

It was trying. Failing. Then going again. Just like them.

In action, I know your hands are braver than your mind too.

We hold so tightly to this badge of being curious, we hesitate to actually start. We get to analyzing and romanticizing. Everything but actioning and completing our ideas.

Admiring craft as a watcher silently morphs into a safety mechanism stoked by endless timelines. With every scroll, we slide farther from our ability to do. As if we don’t have the sacred right to shape our physical world with the same hands so intuitively ready to move on, every three point four seconds.

Our hands only value action.

Truly acting as the best companions in trial and error, it’s like our hands have a reward system for trusting them. My gift arrived after 14 months of throwing:

These mitts demanded a bowl.

A shape with contours for my index and middle fingers.

It opened a two-year rabbit hole across the nation:

Throwing on wheels in Los Angeles. Slipcasting from garages in Charlotte, North Carolina. Finding lead-free clay bodies in a town of 800 called Seagrove before snooping on the talented people of East Fork in Asheville.

A journey that really turnt up under the 100-foot waves of Nazare, Portugal. Well, they were calm in the summer, like ten feet high when I pulled up with a close friend to visit the manufacturer behind the Nest. Product one from VIJN.

A set of bowls made for your hands.

About seven months has passed since these bowls went public. We sent them out to restaurants in Austin, retailers in the DMV, and the shape found shelf space in plenty kitchens across LA, NY, Dallas, St. Louis, Portland, and more. Mashallah.

Only DHL’s wild fees and the nuance of package design are keeping us out of Lagos, London, Dubai, and my familial home of Dakar, Senegal. For now…

What took shape with earthenware became a platform for dinners with no tables, a bevy of content, and overall, the most fulfilling project I’ve completed, to date.

On my next post inshallah, I’ll explain how I wrote this bowl shape into existence…

All these VIJNs are coming clear because my hands took action.

It’s a habit I’m building to expand my worldview and honor my courage. That’s how this thought was brought out from the depths of my Notes app to this very Substack.

We really don’t have to plan when we trust our hands to do, first.

Toxins from the unbrushed mouths of the loudest voices, assuming we’re detached beyond repair.

It’s a lazy opinion formed inside the echo chambers of social media.

An intangible space that tricks us into believing everyone feels the same.

But 8 billion people will never be on the same timeline.

That fact will save us from the gloom of disconnection.

People remain valuable, interesting and necessary mirrors of our own reality–every single day.

It’s as simple as leaving that damn phone at home.

This quote been clouding my sense of self. Raining down ideas to be more vocal. I rise the next day, dusting off that tripod to tell my phone about design, futbol, travel.

Whatever’s pulsating on my frontal lobe that day.

Then I play the video back… and that nausea bubbles up: This isn’t my way.

I don’t thrive off noisy timelines. I make sense when I can ruminate, scribble, and edit before launching what I’m feeling to my people.

That second step is why I’m writing dis.

Since I was 17, writing has been my medium. It’s just taken shape in endless ways.

Today, I own and operate VIJN, a tactile company bringing people together.

It’s a practice of making, testing, and connecting around objects with better use cases. It started with one perspective:

Everyone deserves to feel all their senses animated at once.

It’s the best way to stay present. So the objects around us need to do their part in creating this sensation, simply and often. To get here, I didn’t study design, nor engineering, nor supply chain. I spent a decade writing.

Sports Illustrated, adidas Originals, Netflix. Journalism, social copywriting, universal truths by the dozen. My most prized possessions are these journals I’ve written since 2016, a collection of considerations across my winding epiphanies.

VIJN earned its first product when I asked myself:

Why aren’t bowls made for hands? We hold them, snuggle with them, pass cravings to loved ones in bowls. This pervasive observation became a brief, which led to a technical drawing. 3D prints and two years later, wet, sandy toes.

We were in Nazare, Portugal and my heart was pounding fr.

This notion of bowls for hands became physical samples, handmade by a team dedicated to my VIJN. A humbling moment I still get goosebumps about.

Time passing made it clear: my path has always been charted by writing.

To observe, to reflect, then to write anything into existence.

I’ll be writing about my observations in design, community, experiences, travel, and the things I can’t yet see. Walking down these ideas until they become tactile.

Grateful to grow familiar with you.

A holiday that we’ve been taught preaches family, friends and feast feels really eerie this year. Not because it’s my first away from home, but because of the root of this holiday and it’s tie to some of the most grotesque events currently happening in the United States.

To refresh the brain, let’s briefly talk about how this holiday came about.

In October 1621, English Pilgrims infamously landed their Mayflower ship in Plymouth Rock after months of strife, starvation and ultimately, death amongst traveling members during their voyage over the Atlantic. Upon arriving in modern day Massachusetts, the Pilgrims were warily welcomed by Wampanoag tribe who still fed, clothed and taught the Pilgrims how to grow food in harsh environments. After signing a treaty that gave the Pilgrims land on Plymouth, Thanksgiving was celebrated as the first harvest for the Pilgrims, culminating in a three-day feast between the Wampanoag and the Pilgrims.

The narrative of 1621 flipped within two years as Pilgrim leader Mather, the Elder gave thanks to his God for destroying the native people to make way for “better growth". The subsequent years and decades after the innocent feast saw the exact opposite of the hospitality shown by the Wampanoag as the native people were quickly wiped off their land through the passing of European diseases, genocide and overall treachery from the European settlers.

As time passed, native people were abused, misled and stripped of their land that we call the United States of America. A land that was once sustained to feed the souls that inhabited it has transformed into a land marred with blood and greed, trickling over to what you see 395 years after the Pilgrims landed in Plymouth Rock.

Today, we’re in the midst of a tragedy on many fronts. Whether it’s police brutality, having the equivalent of a tangerine as the President-elect and the strain of our prison systems, the stories are too much to count.

One of those tragedies hits extra hard today. That one is The Standing Rock Sioux Tribe’s Litigation on the Dakota Access Pipeline, a story that mirrors the oppression natives have seen since the beginning of European integration.

Having become public knowledge in 2014, a Texas-based oil conglomerate including Phillips 66, Marathon Petroleum and Energy Transfer Partners presented plans for the Bakken pipeline. A 1,172-mile-long, $3.7 billion underground project that breaks directly into sacred native grounds in North Dakota. Basically since the announcement, there have been protests in the Sioux Nation in Standing Rock, North Dakota fighting the imminent contamination of the tribe’s clean water reserves and ancient burial grounds. This plan breaks an 1851 land settlement between the Sioux Nation and the US government which clearly outlines that the land was privately owned by the natives. Strangely mirroring the breaking of treaty committed by the Pilgrims in Plymouth.

To think, the things that we hold near and dear to our hearts as necessities such as clean water and proper grounds for those who’ve passed are being intruded for the sake of oil, which only feeds the pockets of those who’s ancestors decimated this same land nearly 400 years ago.

A deeper dive into the conglomerate responsible for this shows ties to… *can’t believe I have to call him this*… President-elect Donald Trump as his 2016 campaign received $103,000 from Kelcy Warren, CEO of Energy Transfer Partners. Further digging also shows Trump himself owned a stake in Warren’s company, selling it off as this election began.

Since the announcement, natives of Standing Rock and others who’ve flown in have been fighting to cease the construction of this pipeline. This has led to brutal scenes in which police have used physical force and tear gas to move protesters away from a barricaded bridge, which is the main access point to the Sioux reservation as they stand to protect the potential damage that could be done to the Missouri River, ultimately affecting the sustainability of their land.

A North Dakota Access Pipeline protest turned violent: "Please, please stop shooting people with rubber bullets." #DAPL

— BuzzFeed News on Twitter

All of this over crude oil. All of this over more commas in bank accounts.

So this was written as a thought-starter, something digestible to understand the jist of what we’re in. I wanted to give you a perspective that wouldn’t ruin your joyous day or put a Portland-like cloud on your time off. But please don’t be naive.

It’s an ugly time in our world. Hell, maybe it’s always been that way and with the advent of social media we actually see it. Please make sure to at least watch. At least pay attention. And express care for those going through it.

Whether it’s the plight of Native Americans, African-Americans, women, LGBTQ or anything even beyond the borders, take time to read a tweet, express an opinion and support a cause. While you’re feasting and expressing thanks there are people today in Sioux Falls crying and mourning the potential loss of their land, the only thing they have besides family to be thankful for.

While you express what you’re thankful for don’t be scared to express what you’re not thankful for; the things we can’t continue to let just be swept under the rug.

Thanks for your time.

Dear Muhammad:

They call you The Greatest. They call you the People’s Champ.

In my eyes, it was bigger than sport. Your presence on this Earth provided a template for a man like me. A template that truly values human life, values hard work and values self-worth, something we as human beings can often neglect as a key ingredient to greatness.

When I learned of your passing, I was lost for words in a way that I didn’t understand. Through all of the mediums we are blessed to communicate our thoughts, how could I have no concise way to immediately convey my sorrow and admiration for you? So I decided to just write to you and simply express my gratitude.

We celebrate your brash commentary, your audacious confidence and the beautiful smile you showcased, even through the rigorous plight you were dealt.

As a Black, Muslim man in America, your plight is one of the most inspirational stories I have ever studied. To think, you fought for your beliefs at a time where black lives weren’t considered, even more so than today. To think you converted to Islam in a time where religious curiosity was even more condemned. Your light will forever shine on as an example of what belief can do.

Belief that can stand through the test of time. Belief that can uplift the world.

Speaking of that belief, one of the most polarizing moments of your life, in my opinion, was when you committed to not fighting the Vietnam War for the United States military. Basing this decision on said beliefs, your explanation in March 1967 stuck with me ever since I began studying you.

“Why should they ask me to put on a uniform and go ten thousand miles from home and drop bombs and bullets on brown people in Vietnam while so-called Negro people in Louisville are treated like dogs and denied simple human rights? — The real enemy of my people is right here. I will not disgrace my religion, my people or myself by becoming a tool to enslave those who are fighting for their own justice, freedom and equality.”

Goosebumps come over me when I read those words.

To see a man in such a position speak up against the killing of his fellow man in defense for a country that never did right by him, I was inspired. Along with a countless number of quotes and statements you made, I was inspired to really understand what I believe in and to fully embody every aspect of it, unapologetically. The idea of loving yourself, loving your fellow man of any color or religion and lastly, speaking your belief in to existence has stuck with me and will serve as pillars to my life.

For that example and many other reasons, I thank you with all of my heart.

I thank you for putting your face in the fire. For taking the bullets of persecution fired by the government, the media and those who struggle to think for themselves. I thank you for simply being yourself. Tears flood my eyes when I think of how that alone inspires every single day of my life.

There aren’t many people who celebrate true love for self, all I can do is thank you for showing me that self-love can be the root of spreading love to others. Without your presence on this planet, society wouldn’t have progressed to understand what it means to value life. To maximize, cherish and share it with people of your characteristics and beyond.

So as you leave us, just know you will forever be in the heart of anyone with a rational mind. Your words, your smile, your charisma and even the way you dressed (my man was flyyyyy) will inspire generations hundreds of years from now.

Though I never met you, you touched my soul in a way that all I can say to you is thank you.

In a recent conversation with the talented juice-man himself, Jordan Williams aka Sonny Miles, we spoke on the evolution of popular black music and it’s next frontier.

We questioned what led our black music to where it is today, for good or bad. Is it because of label pressure that lyricists take the back seat to crooners? Why is our generation so obsessed with computer-generated bass? Do labels even matter anymore?

Questions we posed as Jordan eloquently broke down his belief that we are in the middle of a transition, one that will revitalize the world’s most influential form of music: Popular black music.

Black music isn’t only rap music. It’s funk, it’s jazz, it’s rock and yes, it’s even country (your history books probably never told you that…)

It’s the music that sets the tempo for your late nights in the club and your early mornings in class or work. The music that uplifts you during the great times and strengthens you during the rough. Music that has a cadence matching those of our African ancestors. Music that we all desperately need to continue to evolve.

My conversation with Jordan led me to connect the dots to this impending evolution. An evolution that utilizes the power of its predecessors to form fusions of blackness. Power built through funk of the 60s, disco of the 80s, neo-soul of the 90s, gospel of the 2000s and lastly, rap of all decades.

If you kept your eyes open, the proof is deep inside the banana pudding.

Here are some examples of the new generation of black musicians, curating the soundtracks to our lives by pulling vibes from the power of their parents’ personal catalogues:

Kendrick Lamar — To Pimp A Butterfly, released March 15, 2015

Hands down, the most important black album released in the 21st century. The Compton native paralyzed the culture that took the time to digest this quality piece of art. Littered with references to black art (queue the Color Purple reference in Alright), Kdot weaved his story about making it out of the CPT streets within a tightly-braided base of jazz, funk and conscious rap. Creating a statement piece that paid homage to George Clinton, the Isley Brothers and NWA while speaking to our generation about the perils of being in between the glam of the music industry and the grime of the gang-infested streets our government supposedly cares about.

Clearest example of old-school elements: These Walls, a track liable to get you loose on the dance floor, Kdot found his pocket within a funky, almost Rick James-esque vibe as he drew parallels between prison walls and you know, pink matter.

The Internet — Ego Death, released June 26, 2015

The band that emerged from the ever-influential Odd Future collective, The Internet has built a sound off of instrumentation and the silky smooth, yet mildly unrefined voice of lead singer Syd tha Kyd. On this album, jazz is prevalent throughout as neo-soul tempos and even traces of Brazilian samba can be found through the airy execution of lyrics. Whether it’s the deep bass of Girl (featuring Kaytranada) or the tambourines on Go With It, many songs will remind you of what your parents played at cookouts and on Sunday mornings. While carrying these eerily reminiscent tones, the band pairs it with modern hues of 808 kicks and storylines only “millennials” can relate to.

Clearest example of old-school elements: Boasting the haunting opening lyric, “Did you see the news last night, they shot another one down”, Penthouse Cloud held a similar vibe to Marvin Gaye’s What’s Going On through the utilization of a slow tempo to maximize a conscious message, grabbing the soul and questioning it’s thoughts on our modern struggle.

Anderson .Paak — Malibu, released January 15, 2016

Like jumping into a time machine and playing the radio only to hear a rough voice doing a rapping while singing thing. Like listening to gospel after listening to Nate Dogg, Anderson .Paak blurs lines better than probably anyone mentioned in this piece. Hailing from Oxnard, California, the half-Asian and half-African-American crooner has taken over the scene with his deep fusion of rock, hip hop, funk and what seems like it could be gospel, minus some curse words. Even the album cover evokes a vibe that screams inclusion. Inclusion of ideas new and old so over time, the album’s percussions and riffs pair well with it’s drumpad blend, creating a perfect home for Paak’s vivid storytelling.

Clearest example of old-school elements: Am I Wrong, with such a groooooovy culmination of sounds, Paak paints the image of a man’s perception of a woman being molded on the dance floor. Lines like, “If she can’t dance, then she can’t ooooh?” utilize sounds to perpetuate a feeling that can’t be expressed with words, a very Michael Jackson-like move on a track.

BJ the Chicago Kid — In My Mind, released February 19, 2016

Religion and music has always been in this man’s life. Having grown up in the city that gifted us everything from Common Sense to Chief Keef and all the way over to Kanye West, the Chi built a musician with an intense level of taste for cadence, proper percussion and the occasional church-tone keys that curl the toes. BJ’s upbringing was exhibited on front street for this piece, as the layering of his backgrounds felt like the Winans while the soulful ballads of love felt like 90s R&B in it’s heyday, check out Love Inside for deeper perspective on that last sentence.

Clearest example of old-school elements: Raised in the church, it’s ironic that one of the most popular tracks on this album is entitled Church. The song that speaks on BJ’s encounter with a woman wanting to fornicate the night before BJ goes to church, the track’s dragged out tempo evokes a West Coast vibe as the beat creates pockets of tension for the interesting story to be told.

Kaytranada — 99.9%, released May 6, 2016

Typically boxed in as an electronic artist, the Canadian-born producer has built a catalogue with a variety of inspirations, emancipating him from the idea of a genre on your streaming service. In his debut studio album, we see tones and hues that match the tempo that was set by Rick James, Prince and David Bowie during the 80s. These subtle tones of disco and funk illuminate into a vivid sound, providing a perfect soundtrack to those nights out where dancing actually happens, instead of that whole crowd-around-a-bar deal…

Clearest example of old-school elements: Breakdance Lesson N.1, from the jump you hear that riff. Your feet move with the beat and you close your eyes only to find yourself dressed in shimmering clothing dancing at a discotech… Snap back into reality and you realize that this track just took you there. To a place where the groove took over instead of a step-by-step dance, as we typically see in the 21st century.

Chance the Rapper — Coloring Book, released May 12, 2016

For his third mixtape (though he sold it to Apple Music, but whatever…), Chancellor Bennett seemed to want to show his fans where his quirkiness comes from. Where that mercurial voice and audacious beat selection came from. Well, the inspirations are abundant yet one in particular shines through: The inspiration of church. Many tracks contain soulful choirs that elicit tears atop of deep 808s and Van Gogh-level imagery through lyrics. The Chicago boy became a man through the length of this project, showcasing evolution that is guided by his upbringing, which included using coloring books to stay busy in church on those windy mornings in the Chi.

Clearest example of old-school elements: How Great, close to two minutes of choir singing set the tone for the religious track that may make you question whether or not Chance is a Christian rapper who just happens to use curse words. Having built his experience leading choirs through work on TLOP, this track, which was actually a layering of a few voices, sounds like those Sunday mornings in church Chance initially had to go through yet ended up helping finding his tone and place in the future of black music.

When you turn the radio on nowadays, your speakers are filled with bass, melody and a culmination of words that render useless at times.

Though this may seem discouraging for the progression of black music, it could potentially be the downside of a cycle of quality music, meaning we are on the upswing. Even within the songs you can’t stand, you can find inspiration from the Bad Boy era of hip hop or messaging as simple and melodic as Kurtis Blow.

As the evolution continues to roll with the next generation of black musicians, the artists that curated these six albums will lead the next movement of quality music. All six albums attained a Metacritic (combination of all major album review scores) ranking of over 80, yielding widespread acclaim from the media and fans alike.

This is where the power of black music’s progression shows.

With increased technicality, complex rhymes and new ways to execute fusion of genres, look for quality black music to continue it’s plight, hopefully taking the mainstream eyes at some point.

Bill Laimbeer and Isiah Thomas executing the Jordan Rules in the late 90s. The epic, grimy battles between the Showtime Lakers and the Hall of Fame-latent squad of the Celtics in the 80s. Hell, even the Malice at the Palace in 2004. The NBA has a history of competition leaking over to brawls and exhibitions of anger, amongst players and even fans.

That paradigm has flipped drastically in this new era of ball.

You see articles and thinkpieces about it often, old school players ridiculing LeBron James and Dwayne Wade for their brotherhood. Old school journalists critiquing the idea of young star Giannis Antetokounmpo’s interest in working out with LeBron, it’s almost as if genuine friendship is a cardinal sin.

We now live in a world where top NBA players plot on attaining championships together, vacation together and even train during the middle of the season together, but what caused this meteoric change in surface-level competitive spirit?

The answer can be attributed to a plethora of ideas including the rise in player economic power, the ease of communication through social media or simply the “soft” era we are in but one answer provides an interesting perspective.

That one answer is the idea that international play planted the seed that developed league-wide hugs and kisses.

Following the 1988 Summer Olympics in which USA Basketball posted a modest third-place finish with a team of college players, FIBA began to allow professional players to play for national sides within the following year, even against the wishes of USA Basketball and the Russian national basketball team.

To acclimate to the growth of the selection pool, USA Basketball went on to select NBA superstars for the 1992 Summer Olympics such as Karl Malone and Michael Jordan alongside all-time legends such as Larry Bird and Magic Johnson, fostering a frightening team of the league’s 11 best players and the best college player at the time, Duke power forward and tyrant Christian Laettner.

Through this new strategy to forming a squad, for the first time, we saw genuine, documented examples of friendship in the league amongst its pillars, especially through the video of Jordan, Bird and Magic during the famous Sports Illustrated Dream Team shoot.

The positive vibes carried over to the court as the Americans trampled competition by an average of nearly 44 points per game on the way to the nation’s tenth Olympic gold medal in basketball. The beautiful culmination of it all provided a new outlook on the sport once semi-marred with bravado and mafioso mentalities, we began to see a new side of the basketball star.

A side that would smile with it’s fellow superstars while utilizing their enormous skillsets to dominate. Just like that, the seed was planted in the minds of LeBron, Dwayne, Carmelo and their peers as their younger selves watched the television screen in amazement. The mentality created established that to win you must enjoy the game alongside your brothers. Sprinkle in the growth of the sport internationally through the inspiration provided by the Dream Team, today’s leaders in the game are capitalizing off of the seed planted by that 92' team.

Over the next 15 years, we went on to see the rise of the idea that an NBA championship team needs a starting five with 3 perennial all-stars, basically a jubilee of superstardom and the expulsion of ego.

The Boston Celtics made the first move, trading for Ray Allen and Kevin Garnett to partner with Paul Pierce to create a dynamic trio that utilized star power to claim the 2008 NBA title.

Fast forward two years later to the summer of 2010 where a new tone was set on what it means to select players for a championship run. Just like FIBA’s allowance for professional players on international teams impacted the Olympic game, the NBA’s growing player economic power within free agency and trades impacted the modern NBA landscape. Capitalizing off of this, the Miami Heat took the Dream Team and the Celtics formula to a new level.

Upon finishing the 2009–10 season with the Cleveland Cavaliers in the Eastern Conference Semifinals, the NBA’s leading man LeBron James became an unrestricted free agent for the first time in his career. As you can imagine, teams league-wide were restructuring their salaries to create potential space for the man formally known as King James.

Blocking all of the white noise around his recruitment, on July 8, 2010, King James announced he was taking his talents to South Beach.

Within the next few days, Chris Bosh also exercised his right to partner up with his pals as the Raptors and Heat completed a sign-and-trade, sending Bosh to South Florida as the big three was formed, eventually taking two titles out of four straight NBA Finals appearances, fulfilling the growth of the seed planted by the Dream Team of 1992.

Through the public lens of the media, LeBron James and Dwayne Wade’s friendship shinned as their bond was exhibited on and off the court. A relationship that was established during their rookie year, the two midwest products bonded immediately over their tough upbringing and passion for more than just basketball, including fashion, art and cultural awareness. As they grew into NBA legends, they maintained an incomparable relationship, very different to previous relationships between NBA legends.

Over their bond, they’ve been everything from friends to teammates to brothers, a bond rooted in the concept that created the 92’ Dream Team 18 years earlier.

Now that we’ve seen friendships such as D-Wade and LeBron, other relationships league-wide have seen the light of day. Players mentoring one another from afar through social media or legends gifting players with autographed game worn product, the dynamic has changed.

Even international play in the modern context allows players to fraternize amongst each other through ball. Every two years through the Olympics and the FIBA World Championship, the best players in the league strive for world dominance, inevitably forging friendships and fueling media speculation about NBA team transactions.

This biennial unification of the league’s best alongside the power gained in NBA player economics, the utilization of social media and lastly, the impact of the 92’ Dream Team, we are now in an era of genuine love towards one another across the league.

The change overall empowers the players like no other, giving them a secure backbone of peers to lean on for financial advice, marketing campaigns and the ultimate goal, championships. Instead of viewing it as the weakening of our NBA, we should view this paradigm shift as a beneficial wrinkle to the league, allowing players to maximize their NBA career.

Though their opinions are poignant and necessary to the fabric of NBA culture, it’s funny to think that Charles Barkley and his peers hate this change so much.

Due to their splendid play in the 1992 Summer Olympics, they planted the seed that fostered this culture.

The introduction of streaming services in 2011 through Spotify introduced a new paradigm for music consumption. A paradigm that provides access to millions of tracks from the touch of your smartphone, laptop or tablet.

In the five years since its formal introduction to the US market, streaming services have been created by tech giants such as Apple and Google through Apple Music (formally Beats Music) and Google Play Music respectively. These giants don’t only compete to dethrone Spotify but also contend against services such as Jay-Z’s artist-first platform, Tidal, which has presented another wrinkle in this paradigm.

Tidal, along with its stable of high-profile artist owners, has maximized the idea of service exclusive content, shifting the way music is released. Within Tidal’s year of business, it seems as if only one form of music is really feeling the influence of exclusivity.

That form is the most relevant form of popular music: Black music.

To understand how service exclusive content has impacted black music, you’d only have to study what has been happening in music in the first 4 months of 2016.

Six marquee hip hop/R&B artists in particular, have released highly-anticipated and heralded albums in the last 149 days. From the polarizing hip hop legend Kanye West to pop’s princess Rihanna, the past five months have been some of black music’s most interesting months in a while because of their albums.

The two aforementioned artists are also part-owners of Tidal, leading to Tidal-only album releases. This facet of the music industry has increased buzz yet also increased pirating and slander towards artists. Here are some short breakdowns to black music’s six biggest releases:

Bryson Tiller — Trapsoul, released October 2, 2015

Yes, this album was not released in 2016 but it’s insight as to what the future of music looks like is astronomical, and the album also reached it’s maximal sales potential in 2016. Having recently been certified platinum by the RIAA, Trapsoul only sold 22,000 copies in its initial release, ranking 11th on the Billboard 200 for the week. Over time and the increased popularity of the lead single Don’t, Tiller’s impact was felt as streams ramped up on a weekly basis, leading to album sale spikes. Recently, the question of whether or not stream should count as album sales has been posed but as the music industry deals with the impact of streaming, we have began counting streams as ‘equivalent-album’ units, leading to SoundCloud artists like Bryson Tiller attaining platinum status. Tiller didn’t receive any exclusive treatment, allowing users of all platforms access to his trap and R&B vibe. Unlike his contemporaries on this list, this project was Tiller’s debut, also limiting extreme hype and expectations.

Rihanna — Anti, released January 27, 2016

RiRi’s eighth studio album took over three years to see the light of day but once it finally reached it’s rollout, it was revealed to be a Tidal-only release, alienating a large part of her consumer base. As a part of a campaign for Samsung, the South Korean brand bought one million copies, similar to what they did for Jay-Z’s Magna Carta album in 2013. To access the album, fans required a code from Rihanna’s social channels (supplied by Samsung) to download the album for free. Once the Samsung free codes were up, the album was hosted on Tidal for a week, leading to a spike in Tidal downloads *it’s a trend you’ll notice*. Though the album theoretically sold 1.4 million copies first week, it debuted at number 27 on the Billboard 200 chart because Billboard didn’t recognize Samsung’s purchases as actual sales. According to Billboard, Anti only sold 460 actual albums during its first week. Once the free period was lifted, Rihanna claimed the top spot on the chart selling 166,000 albums.

Kanye West — The Life of Pablo, released February 13, 2016

Kanye’s eclectic seventh solo album had been in the works since his polarizing 2013 release, Yeezus. Presented alongside his Yeezy Season 3 fashion line, Kanye and his constituents introduced an altered version of the final album at Madison Square Garden, simultaneously with the fashion presentation. The grandiose occasion was streamed live for free on Tidal before the full album was released to the streaming service 48 hours later. Once live, fans detested the exclusivity so much that there were a reported 500,000 pirated copies of Ye’s album, according to the BBC. Later on, a series of tweets from the rapper led some to believe the album would only be available through Tidal but after one month, the album was released to all major streaming services. After some turbulent weeks that also included Kanye editing songs off the album post-release, TLOP debuted atop the Billboard 200 charts with 94,000 albums sold — 50% from streaming, the first time this had ever happened. It was also reported that the album was streamed 250 million times during the first ten days of availability.

Kendrick Lamar — untitled unmastered, released March 4, 2016

Considered the leftovers of Kendrick Lamar’s Grammy Award-winning masterpiece To Pimp A Butterfly, Kendrick’s and his label TDE (Top Dawg Entertainment) released this 8-track project after a series of performances of unheard tracks, all entitled Untitled, garnered praise from the Twittersphere to NBA superstar LeBron James. Unlike his peers on this piece, Kendrick released this with no buzz and no exclusivity, allowing users of all platforms to attain the project upon it’s random release. Though Kendrick’s project is the least prominenet in terms of sales amongst this group, this rollout created havoc on social media, granting the Compton native free marketing for an album of throwaways. This strategy led to over 150,000 albums sold in five days and no backlash from consumers.

Beyoncé — LEMONADE, released April 23, 2016

Queen B’s newest work made the world stop once again after the visual album was presented on HBO during their free weekend trial. Initially announced a week earlier with little detail as to what it was, LEMONADE turned out to be a full-length visual album that was exclusively released to Tidal after the HBO showing. This album, already considered to be Yoncé most poignant work, spiked Tidal downloads overnight and brought much-needed attention to the services’ offerings. After about 24 hours however, the album was released to Apple Music, creating a two platform exclusivity. Users of Spotify and Google Play Music have had to begin memberships with the rights holders to consume the content as no expansion of rights is imminent. LEMONADE’s exclusivity didn’t hurt her sales as the album sold 485,000 copies (653,000 equivalent-album units, meaning streams) as an unexpected release.

Drake — VIEWS, released April 28, 2016

Years of hype led to Thursday night’s debut of VIEWS via Apple’s Beats 1 Radio, namely the OVO SOUND Radio Station, owned by Drake and his OVO label. This was considered a pivotal hip hop moment for millenials as years of hype manifested to teenagers tuning into a radio station to hear the album *felt like what I’d imagine 1996 felt like*. Once debuted upon the radio station, the album was exclusively released on Apple Music. This hasn’t negatively impacted his sales as Drake is reportedly on his way to going platinum within the first week as projections are estimating 1.2 million units including streams. This tactical approach to his release was executed with little mistake as Apple Music has benefitted from Drake’s loyalty, reportedly even taking Kanye and Jay-Z off of the single Pop Style to keep the Apple Music family close.

AT THE END OF THE DAY

The tumultuous and inconsistent release structure has dratiscally evolved from the consistent Tuesday releases of CDs we once had a decade ago. The internet presented a new challenge to artists and their record labels, heightening the attention to detail necessary to maximize an album rollout.

We’ve seen exclusivity prove to be successful for artists such as Drake and Beyonce yet somewhat detrimental to artists like Kanye West and Rihanna. Bryson Tiller and Kendrick Lamar’s more democratic method of release also proved to be successful.

But once studying the facts, the question has to be posed. Why are we only seeing this release model with black music?

Many of popular music’s biggest releases are from outside of black music such as Adele’s 25 and Coldplay’s A Head Full Of Dreams. Neither of these works were released exclusively yet attained a high sales and perfect leeways to world tours.

Is is because their demographic cares to support their favorite musicians? Is it because hip hop fans don’t buy music? Are albums dead in black music?

Many questions can be posed but exclusivity, if handled improperly, can hurt an artist more than it can help. Improper execution of presentation can lead to pirating spikes and shaky allegiances to streaming services through trials and other ways around paying $9.99.

Fans and artists are both in a confusing place in which questions must be answered.

What fans need to figure out is how they want to consume music. Will we allow artists to tell us where to get content or will we fight back and force consistency. Are we prepared to stop listening to our favorite artists for the sake of balance within our rotation of streaming services?

What artists need to figure out is what their purpose for creating music is. Are they here to provide content that reaches any and everyone interested or are they prepared to break consumers into cult-like service loyalty, unless they’re prepared to pay over 30 dollars a month for three to four different services.

At the end of the day, making money is necessary to maximize art and the lifestyles of curators but we also must reach a point in which musicians and their fans have a clear place to attain content or else many more mistakes will be made when smaller artists explore the idea of exclusivity.

In a world that typically expects male fans of urban music to stick to Drake, Future and their contemporaries, I am asking you to be more curious, to dig into music that you typically don’t. By that I mean give LEMONADE a chance.

To make it easier, here are five reasons you should delve into this masterpiece:

1. On the contrary to what your Twitter timeline has said since Saturday night, this album isn’t a break-up ode to hip hop’s greatest, Jay HOVA. It is a humanizing, culturally-relevant thinkpiece meant to tap into your soul, forcing you to ask questions about what you really value. Whether it’s love or black empowerment, Beyonce carefully weaves her tight-lipped life with our modern trials and tribulations, building art inspired by her marriage and the day-to-day conditions of being black in America.
2. This album is the single most empowering piece of art we have ever seen towards America’s least appreciated demographic: Black women. Yes, the women who have been constantly degraded by society, black women have been battered and tormented by the media, those who are ignorant and worst of all, even black men. Through this underappreciation, black women still show their light, providing the instrumental backbone to black culture. With LEMONADE, Beyonce utilized black women throughout the visual album in such powerful ways. Within the “Sorry” section of the visual album, tennis legend Serena Williams showcased her beauty by unapologetically showing off her voluptuous figure alongside Beyonce while the beginning of the “Freedom” section hosts young multicultural figures such as Zendaya Coleman and Amandla Stenberg in a powerful frame, evoking power through youth. Those two examples serve as just a small sample size to a visual album that promotes empowerment of black women throughout, boasting a plethora of girls with nuanced hair textures and skin tone. By supporting LEMONADE, the appreciation for the strength of our black mothers and sisters grow unconsciously as Queen B guides us through a multitude of emotions, all spewing such raw, powerful energy.
3. Beyonce and her Parkwood Entertainment team curated a master class in execution. From the cinematography to the choreography, this visual album exemplified the value of execution through a multitude of mediums. Visuals, music, aesthetic and more are all precisely blended to present a flawless package. A package that weaves through so many feelings, so many thoughts and so many scars, it would’ve been easy to just give us a video for every song. Instead, Beyonce built a foundation to weave 12 songs together utilizing poetry and vivid sounds to transition from vibe to vibe. Such a consistent backbone allowed the songs and visuals to touch a multitude of ideas while still maintaining B’s mission.
4. The features were bonkers and could basically only be attained by Beyonce. From Jack White and Kendrick Lamar lending their voices to Andre 3000 and Swae Lee from Rae Sremmurd lending their pens, Beyonce maximized these features to accentuate the tempos set by her cadence. These features found their pockets seamlessly, adding nuance that create controlled chaos through the dense lyrical content. This unparalleled collection of features is compelling, rich with complexity and sonically diverse with an array of producers from EDM superstar Diplo to hip hop legend Mike Dean. Remember how well Kanye managed his features in “My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy”? LEMONADE was executed with similar precision as features were never set for credibility but instead were set to allow the track to morph into a layered offering with new ways of storytelling.
5. It’s time for us to grow up and stop only listening to male figures. Why must we only listen to people of our gender? By allowing yourself to listen to women, your perspective grows, your understanding manifests and you naturally see a new side of musical expression. With this visual album, Beyonce made it easy for your transition. Such high quality content paired with some of your favorite artists, Queen B is inviting you to trash your misconceptions and delve into the world of America’s strongest representatives: Black women.

Though I wrote this, I haven’t always been above ignoring music typically marketed towards women. In fact, this is really my first time listening to a Beyonce album multiples times.

What led me to this transition was the sense of pride evoked by black women all over social media. For once, someone was speaking for them, highlighting their beauty on the main stage. In the visual album, Beyonce is seen with braids and Afro-Centric attire, all promoting such an unheralded image of empowerement.

Seeing this surge of excitement brought joy to my Saturday night, inspiring me to see what the fuss was about. Queen B didn’t dissapoint as I now find myself hooked…

As I grow older, I am learning to break down limitations to my education. By lifting this cap built by marketing, perception and general buffoonery, I’ve immersed myself in the magnum opus of this era’s most influential artist, only to my benefit. In the 60 some hours we’ve had this project, I have learned so much about Beyonce’s vision for our future.

A future in which art is appreciated, ideas are shared and most importantly, black lives matter. Because of her reinforcement of these principles alongside some of the most flawless execution in recent music history, you should do yourself a favor and join me.

At this point, I’ve probably listened to this album about 6 times…