It will please some of you to know that I almost titled this post "What's My Name, Bitch?" it will please the rest of you to know that I realize not everyone has spent as much time listening to gangsta rap as I have and begrudgingly decided against it. As you can see, I went with a classic rap pun instead. Although the Gore family attempted to halt the influence that rap music would have on my impressionable mind with the start of parental advisories, I still copped the N.W.A album and no one can save me now. All jokes aside (because surely I must be joking) hip hop solves most of my problems. There isn't a song that makes me run faster than Outkast's B.O.B. and if I am trudging through late night editing, El-P and Killer Mike become my personal life coaches. I have embraced my body, am a better parent, realized the worth of my craft and have stopped working for free (If it don't make dollars, it don't make sense) ALL thanks to hip hop. When I began this journey, I mimicked the street photographers of New York's style with my candid portraiture. I was influenced by heavy hitters like Ricky Powell and his coverage of the beastie boys. There was no pinterest to turn to for ideas when I began shooting, just inspiration from what and who I had in my life.
Being a mother of three, I have very little time for the things that I enjoy. Recently, my boyfriend husband said to me,
"Do you even hobby, bro?"
and I was like,
Ok, so maybe that is not exactly how that went, but hopefully he read that and was cringing. It's hard to dime out a self-proclaimed narciopath, but twisting his always eloquent words into basicdudebro convo? That will surely get him. As I was saying, being a mom of three, I really don't have time for the "me things". This is because my "me things" truly were "g things" and I can't round up bebe's kids and haul them to the Big Krit show. I did hit up J.Cole with my twelve year old. All was well until he played G.O.M.D and I was scanning the audience for any other children to peep the look on their mothers faces. Going to concerts, trampling through old train yards, trespassing in abandoned buildings, finding some adventure that usually involves talking my way out of trouble or hopping a fence aren't things with a place in my day to day. I am trying to make writing a hobby and writing about hip hop and saying words like "bitch" is liberating. Most days, I imagine myself in a Mercedes G Wagon. Especially when I whip out of the car rider line, with my daughter smiling, happy to be out of school. Or just happy to see me, Heather "Riff" Rafferty and her GMC Envoy with the duct tape bumper.
Please nod your head to the playlist below the next time YOU'RE in the car rider line, working out, at your desk, rolling deep with your friends, doing dishes or just need to go back to a simpler time.