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The Art of Becoming Part One:
“It started with a simple concept: to create something that embodies my journey, my growth, and my vision. As I began crafting, each fold brought new challenges—some unexpected, some daunting. Yet, with every challenge, I found joy in the process, learning to embrace the imperfections and celebrate the small victories.”
The Art Of Becoming - Part Two:
“The process of producing an idea and bringing it to life is filled with both challenges and triumphs. From the initial spark of inspiration to the meticulous folding of paper, every step in creating this large paper crane has been a testament to my dedication and passion as a visual artist.”
Braids: @aysiabraids
The Art Of Becoming - Part Two:
“The process of producing an idea and bringing it to life is filled with both challenges and triumphs. From the initial spark of inspiration to the meticulous folding of paper, every step in creating this large paper crane has been a testament to my dedication and passion as a visual artist.”
Braids: @aysiabraids
The Art Of Becoming - Part Two:
“The process of producing an idea and bringing it to life is filled with both challenges and triumphs. From the initial spark of inspiration to the meticulous folding of paper, every step in creating this large paper crane has been a testament to my dedication and passion as a visual artist.”
Braids: @aysiabraids
The Art of Becoming - Part 3:
“As a visual artist, I promise to continue pushing my boundaries, capturing the essence of joy and wonder, and telling stories that inspire and connect. This paper crane is more than just an art piece; it’s a symbol of my commitment to my craft and my belief in the transformative power of creativity.”
The Art of Becoming - Part 3:
“As a visual artist, I promise to continue pushing my boundaries, capturing the essence of joy and wonder, and telling stories that inspire and connect. This paper crane is more than just an art piece; it’s a symbol of my commitment to my craft and my belief in the transformative power of creativity.”
The Art of Becoming - Part 3:
“As a visual artist, I promise to continue pushing my boundaries, capturing the essence of joy and wonder, and telling stories that inspire and connect. This paper crane is more than just an art piece; it’s a symbol of my commitment to my craft and my belief in the transformative power of creativity.”
@amaarae for @metal_magazine
photo assistant: @stay__crisp
digi tech: @blakemohrdp
styling: @siviakosha
hair: @viphair_ashanti
makeup: @deemakeupart
interviewer: @kaanij0
stylist assistants: @ericjacksonchen @awelch.ingram
Last year, I shaped a giant paper crane and called it art. Becoming was the word I held close. becoming a better man, becoming more intentional, becoming someone I could respect. I thought that was the work. But this year, I realized becoming isn’t always forward motion. Sometimes it’s unraveling. Slowing down. Sitting still long enough to hear the real things. The honest things.
This year taught me that healing is loud and quiet. It sounds like me admitting I don’t always know what I want, and sometimes needing more time than I let on. I made mistakes I needed to make, moments where I chose silence over communication, fear over clarity, hesitation over faith. And still, life didn’t abandon me. It softened me. It cracked me open. I watched parts of me die that I no longer needed. The people pleasing. The overexplaining. The urge to be the strong one when I really needed someone to ask me how I was doing.
I’ve been learning how to hold joy without guilt. How to love and be loved, not for how I perform but for how I simply am. My relationship taught me that being seen fully is both terrifying and freeing. I learned that doubt doesn’t always mean stop, it sometimes just means pause. And when I paused, I met new ideas, new friends, new parts of myself that had been waiting for the noise to quiet down.
As I enter 30, I’m not chasing arrival anymore. I’m chasing honesty. Soft power. Clear no’s. Play. Intimacy with my own spirit. The work is still the work but now I know it starts from within. This year’s self-portrait won’t be about becoming. It’ll be about being. Whole. Flawed. Healing. Honest.
Last year, I shaped a giant paper crane and called it art. Becoming was the word I held close. becoming a better man, becoming more intentional, becoming someone I could respect. I thought that was the work. But this year, I realized becoming isn’t always forward motion. Sometimes it’s unraveling. Slowing down. Sitting still long enough to hear the real things. The honest things.
This year taught me that healing is loud and quiet. It sounds like me admitting I don’t always know what I want, and sometimes needing more time than I let on. I made mistakes I needed to make, moments where I chose silence over communication, fear over clarity, hesitation over faith. And still, life didn’t abandon me. It softened me. It cracked me open. I watched parts of me die that I no longer needed. The people pleasing. The overexplaining. The urge to be the strong one when I really needed someone to ask me how I was doing.
I’ve been learning how to hold joy without guilt. How to love and be loved, not for how I perform but for how I simply am. My relationship taught me that being seen fully is both terrifying and freeing. I learned that doubt doesn’t always mean stop, it sometimes just means pause. And when I paused, I met new ideas, new friends, new parts of myself that had been waiting for the noise to quiet down.
As I enter 30, I’m not chasing arrival anymore. I’m chasing honesty. Soft power. Clear no’s. Play. Intimacy with my own spirit. The work is still the work but now I know it starts from within. This year’s self-portrait won’t be about becoming. It’ll be about being. Whole. Flawed. Healing. Honest.
Last year, I shaped a giant paper crane and called it art. Becoming was the word I held close. becoming a better man, becoming more intentional, becoming someone I could respect. I thought that was the work. But this year, I realized becoming isn’t always forward motion. Sometimes it’s unraveling. Slowing down. Sitting still long enough to hear the real things. The honest things.
This year taught me that healing is loud and quiet. It sounds like me admitting I don’t always know what I want, and sometimes needing more time than I let on. I made mistakes I needed to make, moments where I chose silence over communication, fear over clarity, hesitation over faith. And still, life didn’t abandon me. It softened me. It cracked me open. I watched parts of me die that I no longer needed. The people pleasing. The overexplaining. The urge to be the strong one when I really needed someone to ask me how I was doing.
I’ve been learning how to hold joy without guilt. How to love and be loved, not for how I perform but for how I simply am. My relationship taught me that being seen fully is both terrifying and freeing. I learned that doubt doesn’t always mean stop, it sometimes just means pause. And when I paused, I met new ideas, new friends, new parts of myself that had been waiting for the noise to quiet down.
As I enter 30, I’m not chasing arrival anymore. I’m chasing honesty. Soft power. Clear no’s. Play. Intimacy with my own spirit. The work is still the work but now I know it starts from within. This year’s self-portrait won’t be about becoming. It’ll be about being. Whole. Flawed. Healing. Honest.
Last year, I shaped a giant paper crane and called it art. Becoming was the word I held close. becoming a better man, becoming more intentional, becoming someone I could respect. I thought that was the work. But this year, I realized becoming isn’t always forward motion. Sometimes it’s unraveling. Slowing down. Sitting still long enough to hear the real things. The honest things.
This year taught me that healing is loud and quiet. It sounds like me admitting I don’t always know what I want, and sometimes needing more time than I let on. I made mistakes I needed to make, moments where I chose silence over communication, fear over clarity, hesitation over faith. And still, life didn’t abandon me. It softened me. It cracked me open. I watched parts of me die that I no longer needed. The people pleasing. The overexplaining. The urge to be the strong one when I really needed someone to ask me how I was doing.
I’ve been learning how to hold joy without guilt. How to love and be loved, not for how I perform but for how I simply am. My relationship taught me that being seen fully is both terrifying and freeing. I learned that doubt doesn’t always mean stop, it sometimes just means pause. And when I paused, I met new ideas, new friends, new parts of myself that had been waiting for the noise to quiet down.
As I enter 30, I’m not chasing arrival anymore. I’m chasing honesty. Soft power. Clear no’s. Play. Intimacy with my own spirit. The work is still the work but now I know it starts from within. This year’s self-portrait won’t be about becoming. It’ll be about being. Whole. Flawed. Healing. Honest.
Last year, I shaped a giant paper crane and called it art. Becoming was the word I held close. becoming a better man, becoming more intentional, becoming someone I could respect. I thought that was the work. But this year, I realized becoming isn’t always forward motion. Sometimes it’s unraveling. Slowing down. Sitting still long enough to hear the real things. The honest things.
This year taught me that healing is loud and quiet. It sounds like me admitting I don’t always know what I want, and sometimes needing more time than I let on. I made mistakes I needed to make, moments where I chose silence over communication, fear over clarity, hesitation over faith. And still, life didn’t abandon me. It softened me. It cracked me open. I watched parts of me die that I no longer needed. The people pleasing. The overexplaining. The urge to be the strong one when I really needed someone to ask me how I was doing.
I’ve been learning how to hold joy without guilt. How to love and be loved, not for how I perform but for how I simply am. My relationship taught me that being seen fully is both terrifying and freeing. I learned that doubt doesn’t always mean stop, it sometimes just means pause. And when I paused, I met new ideas, new friends, new parts of myself that had been waiting for the noise to quiet down.
As I enter 30, I’m not chasing arrival anymore. I’m chasing honesty. Soft power. Clear no’s. Play. Intimacy with my own spirit. The work is still the work but now I know it starts from within. This year’s self-portrait won’t be about becoming. It’ll be about being. Whole. Flawed. Healing. Honest.
Last year, I shaped a giant paper crane and called it art. Becoming was the word I held close. becoming a better man, becoming more intentional, becoming someone I could respect. I thought that was the work. But this year, I realized becoming isn’t always forward motion. Sometimes it’s unraveling. Slowing down. Sitting still long enough to hear the real things. The honest things.
This year taught me that healing is loud and quiet. It sounds like me admitting I don’t always know what I want, and sometimes needing more time than I let on. I made mistakes I needed to make, moments where I chose silence over communication, fear over clarity, hesitation over faith. And still, life didn’t abandon me. It softened me. It cracked me open. I watched parts of me die that I no longer needed. The people pleasing. The overexplaining. The urge to be the strong one when I really needed someone to ask me how I was doing.
I’ve been learning how to hold joy without guilt. How to love and be loved, not for how I perform but for how I simply am. My relationship taught me that being seen fully is both terrifying and freeing. I learned that doubt doesn’t always mean stop, it sometimes just means pause. And when I paused, I met new ideas, new friends, new parts of myself that had been waiting for the noise to quiet down.
As I enter 30, I’m not chasing arrival anymore. I’m chasing honesty. Soft power. Clear no’s. Play. Intimacy with my own spirit. The work is still the work but now I know it starts from within. This year’s self-portrait won’t be about becoming. It’ll be about being. Whole. Flawed. Healing. Honest.
Last year, I shaped a giant paper crane and called it art. Becoming was the word I held close. becoming a better man, becoming more intentional, becoming someone I could respect. I thought that was the work. But this year, I realized becoming isn’t always forward motion. Sometimes it’s unraveling. Slowing down. Sitting still long enough to hear the real things. The honest things.
This year taught me that healing is loud and quiet. It sounds like me admitting I don’t always know what I want, and sometimes needing more time than I let on. I made mistakes I needed to make, moments where I chose silence over communication, fear over clarity, hesitation over faith. And still, life didn’t abandon me. It softened me. It cracked me open. I watched parts of me die that I no longer needed. The people pleasing. The overexplaining. The urge to be the strong one when I really needed someone to ask me how I was doing.
I’ve been learning how to hold joy without guilt. How to love and be loved, not for how I perform but for how I simply am. My relationship taught me that being seen fully is both terrifying and freeing. I learned that doubt doesn’t always mean stop, it sometimes just means pause. And when I paused, I met new ideas, new friends, new parts of myself that had been waiting for the noise to quiet down.
As I enter 30, I’m not chasing arrival anymore. I’m chasing honesty. Soft power. Clear no’s. Play. Intimacy with my own spirit. The work is still the work but now I know it starts from within. This year’s self-portrait won’t be about becoming. It’ll be about being. Whole. Flawed. Healing. Honest.
Last year, I shaped a giant paper crane and called it art. Becoming was the word I held close. becoming a better man, becoming more intentional, becoming someone I could respect. I thought that was the work. But this year, I realized becoming isn’t always forward motion. Sometimes it’s unraveling. Slowing down. Sitting still long enough to hear the real things. The honest things.
This year taught me that healing is loud and quiet. It sounds like me admitting I don’t always know what I want, and sometimes needing more time than I let on. I made mistakes I needed to make, moments where I chose silence over communication, fear over clarity, hesitation over faith. And still, life didn’t abandon me. It softened me. It cracked me open. I watched parts of me die that I no longer needed. The people pleasing. The overexplaining. The urge to be the strong one when I really needed someone to ask me how I was doing.
I’ve been learning how to hold joy without guilt. How to love and be loved, not for how I perform but for how I simply am. My relationship taught me that being seen fully is both terrifying and freeing. I learned that doubt doesn’t always mean stop, it sometimes just means pause. And when I paused, I met new ideas, new friends, new parts of myself that had been waiting for the noise to quiet down.
As I enter 30, I’m not chasing arrival anymore. I’m chasing honesty. Soft power. Clear no’s. Play. Intimacy with my own spirit. The work is still the work but now I know it starts from within. This year’s self-portrait won’t be about becoming. It’ll be about being. Whole. Flawed. Healing. Honest.
Last year, I shaped a giant paper crane and called it art. Becoming was the word I held close. becoming a better man, becoming more intentional, becoming someone I could respect. I thought that was the work. But this year, I realized becoming isn’t always forward motion. Sometimes it’s unraveling. Slowing down. Sitting still long enough to hear the real things. The honest things.
This year taught me that healing is loud and quiet. It sounds like me admitting I don’t always know what I want, and sometimes needing more time than I let on. I made mistakes I needed to make, moments where I chose silence over communication, fear over clarity, hesitation over faith. And still, life didn’t abandon me. It softened me. It cracked me open. I watched parts of me die that I no longer needed. The people pleasing. The overexplaining. The urge to be the strong one when I really needed someone to ask me how I was doing.
I’ve been learning how to hold joy without guilt. How to love and be loved, not for how I perform but for how I simply am. My relationship taught me that being seen fully is both terrifying and freeing. I learned that doubt doesn’t always mean stop, it sometimes just means pause. And when I paused, I met new ideas, new friends, new parts of myself that had been waiting for the noise to quiet down.
As I enter 30, I’m not chasing arrival anymore. I’m chasing honesty. Soft power. Clear no’s. Play. Intimacy with my own spirit. The work is still the work but now I know it starts from within. This year’s self-portrait won’t be about becoming. It’ll be about being. Whole. Flawed. Healing. Honest.
Last year, I shaped a giant paper crane and called it art. Becoming was the word I held close. becoming a better man, becoming more intentional, becoming someone I could respect. I thought that was the work. But this year, I realized becoming isn’t always forward motion. Sometimes it’s unraveling. Slowing down. Sitting still long enough to hear the real things. The honest things.
This year taught me that healing is loud and quiet. It sounds like me admitting I don’t always know what I want, and sometimes needing more time than I let on. I made mistakes I needed to make, moments where I chose silence over communication, fear over clarity, hesitation over faith. And still, life didn’t abandon me. It softened me. It cracked me open. I watched parts of me die that I no longer needed. The people pleasing. The overexplaining. The urge to be the strong one when I really needed someone to ask me how I was doing.
I’ve been learning how to hold joy without guilt. How to love and be loved, not for how I perform but for how I simply am. My relationship taught me that being seen fully is both terrifying and freeing. I learned that doubt doesn’t always mean stop, it sometimes just means pause. And when I paused, I met new ideas, new friends, new parts of myself that had been waiting for the noise to quiet down.
As I enter 30, I’m not chasing arrival anymore. I’m chasing honesty. Soft power. Clear no’s. Play. Intimacy with my own spirit. The work is still the work but now I know it starts from within. This year’s self-portrait won’t be about becoming. It’ll be about being. Whole. Flawed. Healing. Honest.
Last year, I shaped a giant paper crane and called it art. Becoming was the word I held close. becoming a better man, becoming more intentional, becoming someone I could respect. I thought that was the work. But this year, I realized becoming isn’t always forward motion. Sometimes it’s unraveling. Slowing down. Sitting still long enough to hear the real things. The honest things.
This year taught me that healing is loud and quiet. It sounds like me admitting I don’t always know what I want, and sometimes needing more time than I let on. I made mistakes I needed to make, moments where I chose silence over communication, fear over clarity, hesitation over faith. And still, life didn’t abandon me. It softened me. It cracked me open. I watched parts of me die that I no longer needed. The people pleasing. The overexplaining. The urge to be the strong one when I really needed someone to ask me how I was doing.
I’ve been learning how to hold joy without guilt. How to love and be loved, not for how I perform but for how I simply am. My relationship taught me that being seen fully is both terrifying and freeing. I learned that doubt doesn’t always mean stop, it sometimes just means pause. And when I paused, I met new ideas, new friends, new parts of myself that had been waiting for the noise to quiet down.
As I enter 30, I’m not chasing arrival anymore. I’m chasing honesty. Soft power. Clear no’s. Play. Intimacy with my own spirit. The work is still the work but now I know it starts from within. This year’s self-portrait won’t be about becoming. It’ll be about being. Whole. Flawed. Healing. Honest.
Last year, I shaped a giant paper crane and called it art. Becoming was the word I held close. becoming a better man, becoming more intentional, becoming someone I could respect. I thought that was the work. But this year, I realized becoming isn’t always forward motion. Sometimes it’s unraveling. Slowing down. Sitting still long enough to hear the real things. The honest things.
This year taught me that healing is loud and quiet. It sounds like me admitting I don’t always know what I want, and sometimes needing more time than I let on. I made mistakes I needed to make, moments where I chose silence over communication, fear over clarity, hesitation over faith. And still, life didn’t abandon me. It softened me. It cracked me open. I watched parts of me die that I no longer needed. The people pleasing. The overexplaining. The urge to be the strong one when I really needed someone to ask me how I was doing.
I’ve been learning how to hold joy without guilt. How to love and be loved, not for how I perform but for how I simply am. My relationship taught me that being seen fully is both terrifying and freeing. I learned that doubt doesn’t always mean stop, it sometimes just means pause. And when I paused, I met new ideas, new friends, new parts of myself that had been waiting for the noise to quiet down.
As I enter 30, I’m not chasing arrival anymore. I’m chasing honesty. Soft power. Clear no’s. Play. Intimacy with my own spirit. The work is still the work but now I know it starts from within. This year’s self-portrait won’t be about becoming. It’ll be about being. Whole. Flawed. Healing. Honest.
Last year, I shaped a giant paper crane and called it art. Becoming was the word I held close. becoming a better man, becoming more intentional, becoming someone I could respect. I thought that was the work. But this year, I realized becoming isn’t always forward motion. Sometimes it’s unraveling. Slowing down. Sitting still long enough to hear the real things. The honest things.
This year taught me that healing is loud and quiet. It sounds like me admitting I don’t always know what I want, and sometimes needing more time than I let on. I made mistakes I needed to make, moments where I chose silence over communication, fear over clarity, hesitation over faith. And still, life didn’t abandon me. It softened me. It cracked me open. I watched parts of me die that I no longer needed. The people pleasing. The overexplaining. The urge to be the strong one when I really needed someone to ask me how I was doing.
I’ve been learning how to hold joy without guilt. How to love and be loved, not for how I perform but for how I simply am. My relationship taught me that being seen fully is both terrifying and freeing. I learned that doubt doesn’t always mean stop, it sometimes just means pause. And when I paused, I met new ideas, new friends, new parts of myself that had been waiting for the noise to quiet down.
As I enter 30, I’m not chasing arrival anymore. I’m chasing honesty. Soft power. Clear no’s. Play. Intimacy with my own spirit. The work is still the work but now I know it starts from within. This year’s self-portrait won’t be about becoming. It’ll be about being. Whole. Flawed. Healing. Honest.
Alligator Bites Never Heal 8.30
@doechii
Photographed by me
Styling by @sam__woolf
Makeup by @deemakeupart
Hair by @slayedbynyah
Styling Assist: @athinavh3 @yeoodayy
Lighting Director: @stay__crisp
Photo Assist: @chaz.s.fresco @kbooggy
Digitech: @ryangeary__ @milkdgtl
Set: @schmidlibackdrops
Alligator Bites Never Heal 8.30
@doechii
Photographed by me
Styling by @sam__woolf
Makeup by @deemakeupart
Hair by @slayedbynyah
Styling Assist: @athinavh3 @yeoodayy
Lighting Director: @stay__crisp
Photo Assist: @chaz.s.fresco @kbooggy
Digitech: @ryangeary__ @milkdgtl
Set: @schmidlibackdrops
Alligator Bites Never Heal 8.30
@doechii
Photographed by me
Styling by @sam__woolf
Makeup by @deemakeupart
Hair by @slayedbynyah
Styling Assist: @athinavh3 @yeoodayy
Lighting Director: @stay__crisp
Photo Assist: @chaz.s.fresco @kbooggy
Digitech: @ryangeary__ @milkdgtl
Set: @schmidlibackdrops
Alligator Bites Never Heal 8.30
@doechii
Directed by: @johnjay.img & @jamesmackel
Creative Direction by: @doechii
DP: @larryarm @milkdgtl
1st AC: @helloedboyyy
Lighting Director: @stay__crisp
Lighting Team: @chaz.s.fresco @kbooggy
Edited by: @carlosacosta____ @jamesmackel
Sound Design: @juliansintonia
Wearing: @burberry
Alligator Bites Never Heal
@doechii
Photographed by me
Styling by @sam__woolf
Makeup by @deemakeupart
Hair by @slayedbynyah
Styling Assist: @athinavh3 @yeoodayy
Lighting Director: @stay__crisp
Photo Assist: @chaz.s.fresco @kbooggy
Digitech: @ryangeary__ @milkdgtl
Set: @schmidlibackdrops
Story Save - Best free tool for saving Stories, Reels, Photos, Videos, Highlights, IGTV to your phone.
Story-save.com is an intuitive online tool that enables users to download and save a variety of content, including stories, photos, videos, and IGTV materials, directly from Instagram. With Story-Save, you can not only easily download diverse content from Instagram but also view it at your convenience, even without internet access. This tool is perfect for those moments when you come across something interesting on Instagram and want to save it for later viewing. Use Story-Save to ensure you don't miss the chance to take your favorite Instagram moments with you!
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