The Preakness
on empirical evidence: the motion don't lie.
I’m a horse. not a show pony, no dressage, no Kentucky Derby. I’m off the farm, free range, the kind you find at Assateague running wild, but working.
I’m at a writers’ residency and received a word, not from on high or the universe dropping a bar, but rather it poured forth from a seasoned producer and showrunner who opined in response to what one should have on hand when entering spaces where opportunities may present themselves, stating that one should have a selection of works at the ready. Understanding that the space in the room to present a pitch is supported by your reputation, abilities, and the assumption that you have additional works on the burner — past the aforementioned — “are you prolific?” becomes the question.
Ay slim, horses be working.
In the Chinese zodiac, this is the year of the fire horse, unique because it’s when the horse, a symbol of fearless forward movement and independence, pairs with the fire element, which magnifies those traits. As a Sagittarius youontevenknow how apropos this is, I’m low-key off a full guffaw over this way (but I digress). If you lean in on the symbolism, forward movement on whatever the venture, be they personal or professional, the bar is that now is the time to get busy. To clarify, there should be a clear distinction between being busy with work and doing busywork. I believe that sometimes as creatives and forward movers we can get so caught up in the loop of needing to be busy, that we pester ourselves to produce even when the mental coffers are tapped and wrestle with understanding that the actual work sometimes is learning that rest also takes effort, that quiet isn’t necessarily being stagnant, that ideas have the tendency to pour in or trickle and in those trickle states we again, tend to occupy ourselves with tasks so that we give ourselves a sense of progress. I mean, it’s like sitting in traffic, and the GPS predicts a slowdown — your anxiety will have you taking back roads and shortcuts just to feel like you’re moving, when in reality you’ve added an extra 10 minutes to the trip, when you could have just taken the slowdown as temporary.
Please know that there’s also the balancing act of the duality, specifically for my career artist folk, I’m not addressing the hot dabblers, who only wade in the water with floaties, I’m talking to my kin, for whom the work is the life and the life is the work. In the business/machine of entertainment, when you’re not generating, you appear inactive. Not dead, not resting, not in the lab — inactive. The business/machines don’t hold space for your internal seasons; they couldn't care less about the trickle or rest. The business/machine sees output or silence, and silence reads as stagnation. So the continual and consistent generation of intellectual property isn’t an option; it’s a necessity, and that, my friends, is a bitter pill. You have to keep making the work even when you’re not personally ecstatic about it, even when it feels routine, even when nobody’s asking. Because like I said in the opening, at some point somebody will ask, and when they do, their wondering if you’re prolific can’t be a question.
Currently, I’m making songs, making visual art. I’m thinking through ideas, tech opportunities, grant opportunities, and actively looking for traditional employment because resources are a necessity for future autonomy, and I need that bread young, these indie loaves ain’t baking fast enough, and them people need their money, I like to move a certain way, and in this current political paradigm, Lisboa is looking real good right now. I’ve said it before — sometimes you need to get a job to maintain your sanity and keep the bank balance black. That’s not shelving the dream, that’s strategic planning. Factually, we left the dream world a long time ago, if you’ve received any accolades, checks or stage time, you’re in the reality phase of work, the dream portion of the program existed when none of this was fathomable or tangible, the fact is the now that you’re in it, the work has started and the responsibility to honor your gifts by leaning into the rigor is squarely your bag to carry. The plates need spinning; they don’t all spin at the same speed, but they all have to keep spinning.
And that’s the part of the art/creative/business/machine nobody wants to chat up on these socials. It’s not cute to say “I’m tapped out” or “I made something today that I’m meh on.” But indifference isn’t the same as worthlessness. A song I banged out at 3 am on a random Tuesday, when I was mad beat and just working off muscle memory, might be exactly what someone needs in a pitch meeting six months from now. No, I wasn’t in love with it, it wasn’t a wave according to my personal standards, but that’s the point, it ain’t about what I made for me, it’s about creating the work, and that work accumulates. Every song isn’t my song; it is a song, and in this scenario, you can swap out “song” for whatever your medium is at the moment. The catalog builds, and as we are seeing, catalogs have value. The IP exists in the world rather than in your head, and only one of those places has leverage and tangible goods that can be sent out.
I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention that, yes, this can also be pressure, the pressure to consistently be present to be “on” or “doing”, but multiple things can be true at the same time, with or without you being cognitively dissonant or delusional. In the midst of creating and trying to cultivate, I’m leaning back into the understanding that rest is also an active part of staying creative. Burnout is real, and before you get burnt or tap out, take a minute to refuel. To understand that a holding pattern, a temporary lapse in ideation and idea generation, is also doing. Rest is a verb, an option, and a necessity. And, no, I don’t always take my own advice, because I get it, it took me 7 years of no vacations to finally take one. Like, a no fam, dolo vacay, doing nothing. It took 3 days of “resting” to actually rest and do nothing. It took wrestling with myself to surpass the feelings of guilt, for not “working” on something, because the grind is part of my genetic makeup and my relationship to the idea of work — grinding and sweat equity — needed to be reframed to accept that busy work is just a distraction to satiate the idea of doing something and that ain’t it at all. Give yourself grace for opting into doing the rest part. But the key to that is get your horse on now, get them plates spinning, so that the inertia of preparation and execution can provide you the cushion of rest, while seeming as if shit is still moving, because it is, you have motion, you’re just coasting until you need to put your foot back on the gas.
As a workaholic with undiagnosed ADHD and a mind that struggles to find quiet, I have learned that the times when the ideas are trickling and the to do list of real life shit is lengthy, that the projects that exercise the creative muscle are the ones I center, usually because for me art and creativity aren’t things I can turn on and off — for me it’s like being in Miami in the summer. I can’t control when it rains, but I can stay ready with a bucket. So I stay at the table. I stay at work. I keep rest in mind, being sure to not grind myself to ashes — not confusing motion for progress, but not disappearing either. I only ask that you consider leaning in on your inner equestrian.
Because I’m a horse.
And horses be working.
easy
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about:
KOKAYI
Artist | Author | Speaker | Producer | Preeminent Improvisational Vocalist, GRAMMY-nominated musician, and multidisciplinary fine artist, is a Guggenheim Fellow for Music Composition (the first emcee to have achieved this distinction). Host of the Interledger Foundation’s Future/Money podcast. Author of You Are Ketchup: and Other Fly Music Tales, creator of HUBRI$ and Blackness and the Infinite Potential Well, whose artistry and work reflect a rich tapestry of life experiences shaped by DC and the cultural innovations of the Black diaspora—an enduring legacy that continues to shape the world, often without the proper recognition. Here for all the panel discussions, podcast yakkin’, DJ gigs, and keynote addresses, should you need me, holla.