Saturday, December 15, 2012

This Used To Be My Daydream

Happy Weekend!

I hope this update finds you having a beautiful and blessed weekend! I apologize for such a lapse of time since my last update! I had been racking my brain for the right thing to do with the money that was so generously donated during my last Indiegogo campaign.

Sometime a little after the deadline, I found myself having a conversation that was sparked by a Bob Marley bracelet. A long conversation with a friend, and a fellow regular at my local Bronx Starbucks, led me to discovering the music of one of his friends from Jamaica, a reggae artist by the name of Plente Maq. We watched several of his music videos and I had brought up the idea that I wanted to do a reggae version of my song, "Screaming to be Free," after I had performed a reggae version of it during one of my last performances at The Bruckner Bar & Grill in the Bronx. I wasn't sure exactly what I wanted to do with the song in terms of where I was going to record it or who I would feature on the song, but somehow our chat led me to having a fairly lengthy conversation with Plente a few days later.

When Plente &I first spoke, I was in the midst of planning a trip to Florida to work on some new music with the very talented Doue Carter, who produced my song, "I Cry," as well as some other songs that are still unreleased at this time. A few conversations later, Plente had suggested recording the reggae version IN Jamaica. The idea sounded great, but the reality of getting to Jamaica, finding musicians, getting studio time, etc...all seemed like more of a daydream than a reality. But as lofty as this idea sounded, Plente and I continued talking and, at one point, after much deliberation, I decided that this just might be the best opportunity ever...for both of us.

With the song's growing popularity, I've realized it's an undeniable hit, with almost 53,000 views on the music video for the original version produced by super producer, GI Joe, a reggae version would give the song an opportunity to open up in another genre and bless both myself and Plente with a bigger buzz!

The same day I went and bought the documentary, "Marley," was the same day I ended up booking my flight to Jamaica. It seemed like everywhere I turned, I saw Bob Marley and it seemed like a nod from the universe that I was doing the right thing. Even with all the signs pointing to this being the right move, there were plenty of people that talked to me about the dangers of traveling to Kingston by myself. I talked to many of my friends, natives of the yard, who warned me about what I should and shouldn't do during my time in Kingston.

Leading up to the trip, Plente and I spoke frequently, almost everyday, planning the details of the trip. He had already written his verse within the first couple days of us speaking so the rest of the planning had more to do with the logistics of getting the musicians together and booking the studio.

At the beginning of September, I left for Florida, spending basically my entire time there working on new music with Doue. We worked into the late hours of the night as he built a new track from the ground up and I diligently wrote along to what he was creating. I wasn't feeling well during my time there, but time was limited so I sucked it up and put by best foot forward with the time we had. The fruits of that labor will soon be revealed. I wrote a song called, "Give Love to Get Love," which will be released in the next few months as I'm still recording it.

I left Doue's, packed a small carry-on suitcase, and headed to the airport around 4:30 in the morning. Somehow, I still managed to miss my flight leaving out of Orlando heading to Miami. I was originally supposed to meet up with Plente in Miami and we had booked seats on the same flight so we could get to Jamaica at the same time. The minor setback caused me to arrive about 3 hours past when I was scheduled to arrive originally. As I ran to the gate to see if I could still catch the connecting flight, my sandal fell apart. I had to laugh at that point. I walked to the bathroom to get myself together only to realize it was closed off. It seemed like something was trying to keep me from going, but I was determined to turn every obstacle into a win.

I used the best of my time, grabbing something to eat at the Miami airport, as I waited for the next flight out to Jamaica. I got on the plane and smiled, still feeling a bit anxious from all of the conversations I had prior to leaving New York about going to a foreign place for the first time to meet someone I'd never met before, trusting only in my faith in God and the journey this music has taken me on thus far.

A short flight later and I found myself in Kingston airport, ready to meet Plente for the first time in person. I had no service on my cell phone when I walked into customs so I had a hard time filling out the paperwork, listing the address I would be staying at during my time there. Customs blocks all use of phones/ internet until you get cleared so I couldn't call Plente to get the info or access my email to pull it up from our earlier correspondence. My nerves started to rumble as I anxiously awaited the airport personnel to page Plente in the surrounding area of the airport so they could retrieve the information from him. Until then, I was stuck in customs with no phone and no internet...just nerves...lots of them.
Thankfully, Plente heard the page and gave them the required information in order for me to make my way to my luggage.

I had just brought a carry on as I would only be in Jamaica for about 3 1/2 days. At the last minute, as I was boarding the plane, American Airlines had made me check my bag, which had successfully boarded a plane as a carry on just a few days before. I had no time to think or to challenge their demand to check my bag so I handed it off. When I landed, I retrieved my bag and made my way to meet Plente. Plente was outside the airport waiting for some friends to come pick us up. We hugged and waited for our ride. I was still pretty nervous at this point so I just stayed quiet and did my best to be aware of all my surroundings.

Plente's friend, Peggy, came to pick us up, along with his wife and their newborn baby. I sat in the backseat just trying to take it all in. We drove quickly to drop off our bags and make our way to Tuff Gong. Clive Hunt, legendary producer and musical director, whom Plente had been in contact with prior to our trip, came out of the front entrance at Tuff Gong. There were gates at the entrance and guards standing watch as we entered the legendary studio. It felt as if an out-of-body experience. I had only gotten a couple hours sleep the night before and my hectic flight experience was definitely adding to the effect of this already overwhelming experience.

I walked into the studio and just tried to take in the memories and the energy that existed in that space, walking slowly into the control room, where all the musicians had already started learning my song. It was like sensory overload trying to take in all the sights and sounds of this legendary studio. I watched on as Clive Hunt directed the musicians to play the rhythm as he had in mind. They would play my track then play the song over and over again. I heard my own lyrics, "This used to be my daydream and now it's my reality," and all I could do was smile and give thanks for the fact that something I couldn't have imagined in my wildest dreams was now becoming a reality before my very eyes and ears. I was still delirious from my lack of sleep and my crazy flight, but I was doing my best to just soak it in. Plente was full of energy, bouncing around and taking pictures, as I mainly just stood in awe.

For those who have been part of my journey for a while now, you know just how tumultuous it has been, living on next to no money, living out of my car, and doing whatever it takes to get my music recorded and out to the masses in an effective way. It's been a struggle, but at that very moment, I remembered again WHY I was willing to go through all of it and why I would do it all over again. This is what I live for...that feeling...that music coming to life. It's like the air I breathe.

I went to get my laptop from my bag so I could go online and use my web cam to get some shots of the session. I pulled it out of my carry on for the first time since American Airlines had me check my bag as I was boarding the plane only to realize my computer was destroyed. It had been crushed during my flight. It was all I could do to remember where I was and to just focus on staying grateful for the amazing experience and not get overwhelmed or depressed that my main lifeline to the world was now destroyed. I closed the computer somberly and took out my phone to start shooting pictures, which are what you see within the blog. To this day, I haven't posted many pictures from my trip due to the fact that I have no computer and no real way to upload them to share them, but one or a few at a time. My computer has yet to be replaced, but that's a story for another time.

In the span of a few hours, the musicians finished their parts, laying the new foundation for the reggae version of my song. Many thanks to the musicians who brought my music to life: "Monty" (guitar), Aeion Heiolett (bass), Kirk Bennett (drums), Phillip "Winta" James (keyboard), & Azul (percussion).
I headed into the live room to record my vocals. I looked around me and once again tried to take it all in. I felt so small in the huge room, the room that had once been recorded in by legends before me and I tried to just take a deep breath and remember that it was faith that had gotten me here so I did, in fact, belong there. I thanked God, and Bob Marley, and started laying the vocals over the freshly laid track. My lack of sleep and stress of the day were taking their toll. It was time to call it a day.
I thanked all the musicians and we headed back to the place we had rented in St. Catherine's. I hadn't eaten all day so by the time we made it back, I barely chewed the chinese food they had gotten for me while I was recording. It was time to get some rest to get ready for the next day, realizing we only had 2 more days to finish what we came to do.

I woke up the next day feeling refreshed and ready to finish laying my vocals. Plente and I first headed to go see his sister, who still lives and works in Jamaica. We went and grabbed lunch with her at Devon House. She gave me an abridged version of a tour of Kingston as we drove her back to her job. While at Devon House, we talked a bit about music and faith. I bought a onesie for my new niece, Parker Mae, whom I had yet to meet due to all my recent travels and she bought me a Jamaica key ring, showing her true hospitality. We dropped her back off to work and headed to House of Hits Recording Studio, where Clive was expecting our arrival.

I promptly went into the booth and started recording. I changed up my stylistics a bit on the vocals for my verses and pulled from the vibe of the new track, which gave off a beachy, dreamy feeling. I finished up my vocals and it was time for Plente to head into the booth to do his verse. He had written his verse within 48 hours of first hearing my song when we first spoke over the phone. He was able to pull from the song the feeling and the message and bring his own story into the mix, mentioning other legends like Martin Luther King and Ziggy Marley. The track was really coming together. It felt amazing to hear the track taking on a whole new life than before.

We still needed to lay background vocals/ harmonies. I had something in mind for what I wanted it to sound like and I sang it to Clive. He liked my idea so we began to lay it down. Just then, someone else entered the studio, an artist by the name of Lymie Murray. He's the kind of person you like pretenses whatsoever and his energy abounds from his very presence. I hadn't heard a note from him, but I already knew that he would add to what we had started. I started to sing the harmonies to him and he quickly went into the booth to begin. When he began singing, I found myself crying, tears uncontrollably streaming down my face. He was the missing link, the final piece of the puzzle that made the song complete. Plente looked over at me and asked if I was crying. All I could say was, "Yes."

In two days, we went from nothing to something...AMAZING! I don't know if it was the pressure of the time crunch, the fact that the song was destined to be made in this way, or if it was just God's divine intervention, but I'll tell you one thing...this song is proof of what's possible with an unrelenting work ethic, heaps of faith, and a pure love for music.  We completed the entire track in 2 days and had one day left to complete the mixing, which would be done by Clive Hunt and the same engineer who had recorded our vocals that day, Michael "Mikey" Williamson.

I stayed behind and talked to Lymie for a while after our session, discussing our music and our journeys. He would be in New York just weeks after I got back to perform in Queens. We traded our music and wished each other well. I felt truly blessed to have met him and gotten to work with him. I honestly felt this way about everyone that I had the honor of meeting and working with during my time there, but our artist spirits were connected on a truly higher level in particular.

I left the studio with Plente & Peggy and we headed out to grab something to eat. We returned to Island Grill, where I had already felt like I had become a regular, to go get jerk chicken, rice and peas, and my favorite, festival! We were almost done. Time to get some rest and spend our final day getting the track mixed.

A final day at House of Hits Recording Studio led us to the completion of the project in only 3 days. It still amazes me what can be accomplished when the goal is set and you're racing the clock. I've always been someone who works well under pressure, perhaps even better under pressure in some circumstances.

I had no computer to even play the track before I left Jamaica, but I had faith that it would all work out. I left the studio feeling truly grateful for all the amazing hands on deck, the wonderful musicians that played, the amazingly high spirited people in the studio including Masta B Master, who still checks on me and encourages me throughout my journey, Clive Hunt, who's visionary ear made it all come together, and Plente Maq, who helped take an unbelievable plan and make it an outstanding reality.

I woke up on my last day in Jamaica, feeling ready to come back to New York with an amazing record and a big plan for its release. As we drove to the airport, I took in as many sights of the yard as I could, realizing I had mainly seen only the four walls of the studio and my bedroom during my time there, but feeling so incredibly thankful that we had a finished product authentically recorded in Kingston, the birthplace of reggae! I looked out the window and thanked God, and my angel, Bob Marley, for this life changing experience, realizing it was only the beginning. The music has yet to reach the masses and already I feel its effect on me and the people involved.

I got to the airport early as Plente's flight left before mine. We hugged and made our plans to keep in contact as we prepared for the creation of a music video of the song and the release here in the states.

I went to go grab a coffee and something to eat as I waited to get ready to board my own flight. I took a seat next to a man who people seemed to be very intentionally avoiding. We began to talk and I told him about my trip and what I was there for. He said that he was there waiting for his son, but as he spoke more and I observed the clothes he was wearing and his bare feet, it became clear, that he was there for another reason. It also became clear that he thought that because of what I was there for that I was something that I am not...yet. He assumed I had money and that I had already made it big in the states. He then asked if I would buy him something to eat. I looked at what was left of my Jamaican currency and used the last of what I had to get him a coffee and a muffin. I didn't have much left, but I realized I still had more than he did at that moment.

That moment taught me a lot about perspective. Looking in from the outside is a much different reality. That man didn't realize that I was coming back to the states with hardly any money at all, using all the money that I had raised in order to take another step to make my dream become a reality. He was simply trying to survive and he assumed I was doing a better job of it than he was. Fact is, I've given up most of what people take for granted to live even a small part of my dream. I've gone into survival mode to spend my money mainly on rent, food, and music. Those are my three necessities in life. Every once in a while I splurge on other things and it feels like a guilty pleasure, like I'm wasting my money. But I'm human and I recognize my desire to have certain things that I want versus only what I need. The gemini in me is always on the fence about the needs versus the wants, but I have a lot of amazing people around me reminding me that it's ok to be human, to want things once in a while, and who encourage me to keep chasing my dream by any means necessary.

Another spectrum of perspective makes me realize that, for as little as I have now versus what I once did, I still have an ABUNDANCE, especially when compared to so many others in the world. Not only that, my lifestyle is a CHOICE and not something that has been forced upon me. In all of this, I must give THANKS for all that I have and for all the TRUE BLESSINGS in my life. I am still SCREAMING TO BE FREE from so many things, but I pray that my music sets me free, as well you! "Have you ever had a dream? Well, then I know you know exactly what I mean. Just don't you let go. 'Cause this used to be my daydream!"
Stay tuned for the Martin Luther King Weekend 2013 release of the reggae remix of "Screaming to be Free" featuring Plente Maq! The music video is in the works, as well. More details coming soon!

Thursday, August 9, 2012

Patience: It's MORE than a Virtue...your life depends on it

There are so many cliches in the world that we many times take for granted the weight that some of these statements have...until we're slapped in the face with them. In my case, I was recently actually punched in the face for my lack of patience. I am now compelled to break down this cliche in a way that I pray will resonate with you some way.
This past Monday, like so many Mondays before, I was headed downtown on the Bruckner Expressway, towards the west village to go sing at a jam. I usually take the FDR and then head across town to the west village because 95 South is always a parking lot, no matter what time of day. (Here's the first part where I demonstrate a lack of patience.) I was having some car issues as my rear brakes were almost completely bare and I hadn't had the time or the money to go replace them. Allow me to acknowledge the danger of not repairing my vehicle and reflect that this is the first point when I should have realized patience would have kept me off the road and safer than driving on bare brakes. (Case 2 of lack of patience.)
But since I don't dwell in the past, I'll just hope that you take heed to the danger of driving with car problems and pray that you maintain your vehicle to the best of your ability. I'll also note that, since this incident, I've replaced my brakes.
Ok, so back to the Bruckner. Unlike every other night as I use this route to avoid traffic, the Bruckner was just was just as much of a parking lot as 95 usually is. In a hurry to get downtown and sing, I moved into the left hand lane, which was flowing freely, until the split for 87 north, where I slowed down and made my approach  to cut into traffic. In my peripheral vision, I could see the woman in the car next to me and her jerky motions in her car to leave absolutely no room between her and the car in front of her. I noticed it and yet disregarded it. Confident about my ability to get my car into pretty much any space, I waited until the car in front of her moved into the next lane and stealthily slipped my car directly in front of hers. Before I could even have a chance to realize what was happening, the woman in the car behind me had jumped out of her car. My window was down and as I reached for the button to put my window up as she screamed in my face, she put her hand down to stop me and reached out with a closed fist, which made impact directly above my right eye. I sat there in shock as she continued screaming at me, asking me if I was crazy, threatening me. She walked back to her car after a shouting a few more things in my face. Not thinking straight, I got out of my car, shaking like a leaf, so I could write down the make/ model of her car, along with the license plate number. She and her friends continued screaming at me out their windows, telling me to go ahead and call the cops as the passenger in the front seat pulled out what appeared to be a union card. She was saying her cousin was a cop and that it was useless for me to call the police. I was still shaking as I got back into my truck and fumbled to dial the 3 numbers to call for help.
It seemed to take an eternity for me to successfully dial the numbers. When the woman's voice finally answered on the other end, I was overcome and started sobbing as I tried to relay what my emergency was through gasps of air. My head started to throb as she kept asking me to repeat my location. I repeated it over and over again and she still misunderstood where I was saying, which only made my head throb more. I knew I needed to take a deep breath and focus if I was ever going to be able to communicate my location. Finally, I was able to get it across to her and I made my next phone call to Jeff, a man who has been so many things to me in the last few months that to give him one title would serve as a dis-justice. Again I found myself totally hysterical as he answered the phone. I blurted out as much of what happened as possible again through gasps of air. He asked me where I was and I felt my head throbbing again as I tried to explain my location. My frustration grew as I struggled to relay my location once again and my head felt as if it had a heartbeat all its own.
The driver and her friends had made their way out of the traffic and took off in the direction of the Triboro Bridge, still screaming at me as they drove off. I felt helpless and totally out of my element.
The only other thing I could think to do was use social networking to report what had happened in hopes that someone would spot the car. I tweeted about the incident, sharing the info about the car and license plate to over 3,500 people not knowing what else to do. My phone started going off repeatedly with phone calls and text messages from concerned friends who had seen the status update. The police kept calling me trying to pinpoint my exact location, which only further upset me and hurt my head. Finally, I heard the sirens and saw the flashing lights in my rear view mirror.
The officer approached my car and I rolled down my window for the first time since the woman had reached into my car with her fist. He asked me to re-count what had happened and took down all the information I had. He asked if I needed an ambulance and I couldn't figure out how to answer the question. Upon realizing the fact that I have no insurance, all I could think of was the hospital bill and I declined, my head still pounding .
Another officer approached my car and we started talking about the incident. I told him that I was on my way to sing downtown and that I'm a singer and song writer. Before he knew what hit him, he had my CD and my promo flyer in his hand. Without hesitation, I used the opportunity to turn the situation around. I told him about how I use my platform as an artist to encourage other people to live their lives striving for greatness in a healthy way, to educate and empower themselves, and to make the right choices. He started telling me about his weight gain since joining the force and the lifestyle decisions that he had made, which had led him to daily headaches. I started to talk to him about the impact his food choices and lack of exercise had and how he could help himself just by changing some small things to begin with. He told me that he had daughters and had moved out of the Bronx because of incidents like what had happened to me, along with other countless experiences from his service. It made me sad to think about the negative connotations of the Bronx. I reminded him that the crime and negativity was only perpetuated by the fact that people simply accepted it as "the way it is" and that change has to start somewhere. I also reminded him of the importance of his life and his health in the context of his daughters. At this point, my head was still hurting, but I was so grateful for the opportunity to turn something bad into something good...or at least plant a seed of something good. As he returned to his car to assist his partner with the report, Jeff pulled up in front of my car. He had been in the middle of an important meeting, but left as soon as he received my phone call to come to my aid.
As he got out of his car to check on me, the officers returned with the report, and we were all back in our cars making our way through the traffic. Jeff and I pulled off the highway into a gas station to sit and talk about what happened. He said that he was worried about me and the situations I put myself in. I was automatically defensive, even as the pounding in my head should have led me to be calmer and more receptive to his thoughtfulness. Even as he spoke, all I could think of was getting downtown to still make it to a jam.
He advised me that maybe all this was a sign to not go downtown and to lay low for the night. Frustrated even further, I explained that music was the only thing that really offered me any kind of peace, and that allowing the events of the evening to deter me was simply giving in to evil stopping me from my pursuit of my dream. I had re-counted the night after my apartment had gotten broken into and how the people running the show had been surprised that I showed up to perform less than 24 hours after it had happened. I found myself feeling just as I had then...that the show must go on. Reluctantly, he let me get out of his truck, back into mine and I made my way downtown.
I parked my car, fixed the makeup that I had cried off, and made my way into the Village Underground. It was packed and I was eager to get on the list. But the mishaps of the evening had led me to arriving too late so I made my way to The Bitter End, a place I consider to be my home away from home on Monday nights, filled with some of the most talented musicians in our country, but more importantly at that moment in particular, some of the best friends I've made during this journey.
I walked in and told them what happened and was immediately given ice to put on my head and a club soda. I  already started feeling better just knowing the love they had for me. And though my head was still pounding, it felt better to be around great music and amazing people. I went up and performed my song, "Back With You"   and I was grateful that after everything that happened, I was still able to perform and share my gift.
I've done a lot of reflecting since Monday night. I even had to stay in the following night due to the pain in my head, which is something I don't frequently do in this relentless pursuit of my dream. In all the recent reflecting, I realized that patience is one of my biggest challenges. It's something I've realized in the past, but this week, it was put in my face (literally) more than ever. I thank God that the woman only punched me. I realize that she could have had a gun and there's a chance I wouldn't have been alive to share this lesson with you.
"Be still and know that I am God..." Psalm 46:10 For those of you that know even just a little about me, you know that I'm a woman of faith. This scripture has been a reoccurring theme in my life. I push so hard everyday towards the fruition of my dream. Sometimes I push so hard that I forget the importance of being patient and realizing how much danger I can put myself in if I'm not cognizant of that fact. I put my faith and trust in God every single day. I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that God did not bring me this far to leave me now. But just as that's true, something that Jeff reminds me of on a regular basis, is that God helps those that help themselves. Accordingly, I pray that this incident inspires you to put a healthy dose of patience in your life. With the advent of technology and the seeming necessity for everything to be NOW NOW NOW, remember that patience is MORE than a virtue...your life could very well depend on it. 
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Friday, July 6, 2012

"Down With Brown:" A Response To Elevated Scott

Rise up this mornin',
Smiled with the risin' sun,
Three little birds
Pitch by my doorstep
Singin' sweet songs
Of melodies pure and true,
Sayin', ("This is my message to you-ou-ou:") - Bob Marley

Actually, that's not how my morning started. I woke up to a tweet, though not of the bird-type, from @Elv8scott, the founder of Official Global Attack Mixtape Series. It's the morning after my deadline for "Grammy Bound With You" and I'm feeling a little bittersweet already. Though I didn't reach my goal of $65,000, I did receive over $2,400 in donations through the site and even more in cash/ check donations. I woke up feeling grateful and anxious to take the next steps towards my dream.
Before I even got up to brush my teeth, I looked at my phone and found the following tweet from "Elevated Scott,"

 You do realize average record label spends about 250,000 dollars behind a record to push for a Grammy. 

It was a low blow to receive as the first thing to look at the day after making some great strides towards my dream. I sat there for a moment, wiping the sleep from my eye, thinking of the best way to respond...or if I should respond at all. For the sake of time, I'll leave out the commentary for now and just re-trace the conversation as it took place:

 Thanks for the info. I don't makes wishes anymore...I just make it happen. Wishful thinking is just the planting of a seed.
 I don't have all the right answers, but I'm willing to make mistakes till I get to them.


 I don't have all the right answers, but I'm willing to make mistakes till I get to them.


And I guess he must have deleted the conversation since I can't pull it up on twitter, but luckily I took a screen shot of the conversation so I have it documented:

@ELv8scott: @KFHox well ur gonna be stuck in that box until u surround yourself w the right ppl and not ppl just attempting to go through the motions

 Again, thanks for the info. I agree, but understand I'm not "stuck" around anyone. I choose the people I surround myself with.

 Again, thanks for the info. I agree, but understand I'm not "stuck" around anyone. I choose the people I surround myself with.

(*the spelling errors are his, copied verbatim from his tweet)
I'm not a woman who's easily taken out of character, but this last tweet pushed me over the edge. As Kanye once notably said, "Racism's still alive, they just be concealin' it." And by deleting his tweets, this is @ELv8scott's way of concealing his BLATANT racism. 
As an independent, up-and-coming artist, I understand that my response to this does not come without repercussions, but I know who I am, what I represent, WHO I represent, and what I want to do with my platform within the music industry. For this reason, I am COMPELLED to respond to these tweets and spread the word about @ELv8scott's position on "Brown People," as he would refer to them. 
Truth be told. this is NOT my first interaction with him, that has echoed these RACIST undertones. It started back in April after I met him and his GIRLFRIEND at an event he invited me to in the city. I attended, along with the director of my video, Rodolfo Duran and his assistant, Sha-la Hollis, of, very talented young men making strides themselves within the production side of the entertainment industry. Shortly after meeting him in person for the first time, along with his girlfriend, I received the following correspondence via Facebook:

    • I'm in OD grind mode, but definitely keep me posted. Would love to link up and talk shop. As I told you before, I'm always up to support your movement. I stand behind your grind and your dedication to help artists on their path. You'll surely be blessed by all that you're doing.
    • yea im talking more personal than biz
    • but either or would be great 
    • To be honest, I'm 100% business at this point. The task at hand allows for nothing less, but I'm flattered and I'm definitely down to help however I can.
    • no doubt

It seemed like it was no big deal and that he respected the fact that I'm working day and night to make things happen for myself. I didn't bother to ask about his girlfriend that he introduced me to at this his event, Launch Party.
A short while later, I started receiving tweets (PUBLIC tweets, not DM's) that began to demonstrate his feelings about me being "Down With Brown:"

I have figured it out.  will not entertain a date cause shes only dates black dudes? lol jk

 I don't base relationships on color. I believe in one race...the  race. I base relationships on character and chemistry.

 hahaha no doubt

 I don't joke about race. There's too much hate in the world. I refuse to make a joke about it. I'm not just a singer. 

 You, of all people, should understand the great responsibility that being in a position of power & having a platform entails.

 So i guess that answered that question pretty clear...