BIO

 From as early as I can remember, Wesley's life always has had traces of creativity present. in elementary school, his teacher fauded how brilliant he was; he spoke both English and Kreyol fluently and wrote perfectly- he was only in the second grade. His talent with words formed early on; we would sit in our living room trying to use medical terms we barely could pronounce in our spoken word poems. When I left for college and returned, his passion for language had grown. He had books filled with writing; the barely legible handwritten lines forced a reader to focus on every word.

It was almost as if he had created that challenge intentionally. He told me he was working on a book called Catharsis; in the same breath he told me was making music- I blinked and he played me his first EP The Garden.

He was evolving, growing every time I visited. Once, I visited him in New Jersey - pieces of fabrics were tossed everywhere, the sewing machine was threaded, scissors and needles were within an arm's reach, and of course, there was a different book, this time containing a sketch of pants. "I made these," he said about the pair he was wearing — no buckles or pockets but legs that flooded over his Doc. Martens. This time, I asked to see his sketchbook. I flipped through each page. Hats and Eyes everywhere.

- Marc Pierre

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