For so many weeks leading up to the release of "God Bless The Block" I felt like a fraud. That imposter syndrome is something I battle before the launch of any project I'm involved with. But with "God Bless The Block" being a collection of my work spanning 10 years, it felt like a decade's worth of self-doubt was weighing me down.
Would people get it? Would the community embrace the concept?
Gentrification has had a stranglehold on our beloved block for so long. Could the original neighborhood still shine through?
How could I properly pay homage?
"God Bless The Block" was a labor of love, and the launch was a leap of faith. The people I've been able to build with over the last decade plus unknowingly gave me the confidence to release this photo book. After all, the book is not a celebration of my work, but a celebration of a community that continues to thrive in spite of the capitalistic forces created to suppress its spirit.
Someone tried to tell me earlier this year that the block was dead. They tried to tell me that clout had replaced scruples. Nah. I don't believe that. How could I when I know there ain’t no weapon formed against us?
The clout chasers are out there, sure. But the people who love the block -- who love the East Side -- will pull their card 10 times out of 10. Those individuals with "public figure" in their bios end up weeding themselves out, eventually.
The block belongs to us -- the 9 to 5ers, the lovers, the dreamers, the poets, the painters, the creators, the builders. It belongs to those who put their sacred hearts on display through their craft. It belongs to the memory of those no longer with us.
"God Bless The Block" is a love letter. And 2024 was only the beginning.
There are too many people to thank. Just know that if you were a part of this project in any way, you are recognized and appreciated.
On this final day of the year I am thankful for the love and the support of the vision.
Let's see what you got, 2025.