To Be a Creature of Story

"The place in which I'll fit will not exist until I make it." — James Baldwin

My whole life I’ve made things—books, plays, films, poems—that feel like fragmented mirrors of the world as I experience it. Not as it is sold to me. Not as it’s advertised. But as it feels from within this skin, this body, this lineage.

Because I believe every time we expand the range of what’s visible, every time we speak from the margins, we widen the field of what’s possible. We show others: You are not alone. You were never alone.

When we make the private public, that’s not just vulnerability—it’s resistance. It’s liberation.
A story can be a lifeline. A story can be a hammer. A story can be a hand reaching through the darkness saying, “I’ve been there too.”

Each story shared is a small crack in the illusion that the world is fixed, final, and only ever one way.
Each story is an act of magic.

And not just the kind of magic with sparkle and wands—but the real kind. The kind that rearranges atoms. That shifts perception. That reclaims power.

Even Dr. Doom—the antihero, the sorcerer, the villain you can’t quite hate—once said:
"True magic is the imposition of a narrative upon reality. It is telling a story to the world… and making the world believe it… to be a creature of magic… to be a god… is to be a creature of story."