Barbering opened the door. It was never the identity.
I grew up in Harlem. I learned early that how you carry yourself tells people who you are before you say a word.
The chair taught me the rest. You sit someone down, you take your time, and somewhere between the first guard and the last line you find out what they actually want to look like. Most of the time it is something they already had. They had just forgotten.
So that is the work now. Art, style and honest conversation, in Beverly Hills and wherever the work takes me. The cut is the entry point. The point is remembering who you were before anyone told you who to be.
