As the sun was setting under the mars-colored mountains, I had my right arm wrapped around my mom and my left around my dad. We were walking down a dusty trail on the border of the Joshua Tree national park, lost in the spectacle of fleeting colors and our precious time together.
Words can’t describe the feeling. It would be like trying to explain sound to a deaf man or love to someone who’s never loved. The next day we reminisced on the feeling, and my dad taught me a word that sums it all up – ineffable. It means too great or extreme to be expressed or described in words.
In that moment, I realized the ineffable drove me to be an artist. It wasn’t enough to see the sunset alone, I wanted to share it with everyone. The music I listened to growing up did that for me, and I wanted to do that for someone else.
Today I released Crossfire part two, the sequel to the difficult and desperate question: “Why him and not me? Why do I get to watch peaceful sunsets with my parents while a poor child is lying on the floor, starving and scared?” But this time around, my friends Talib Kweli, Killagraham and Justin Clough – the incredible director to the music video – are adding to the message. Together, they help me describe the ineffable.
Before I go spend the rest of the day with my parents, I want to say this:
It is our judgement and criticism of others that isolate us. Look down on any human being that does wrong and admit that you are better, and all you will feel is your loneliness. It is when you are comfortable enough with yourself that you can accept and forgive anyone. I dare you to try it.
—Sep 14, 2016