December 7th will always sit differently with me. A few years ago, I did my first solo exhibition in honor of my dad. Curated by Sadat, it became more than photographs it became a story. Our story. The bond built on late night conversations, talking shit, laughing, debating sports like it was life or death. There was even an installation that looked exactly like my mama’s old living room couch and all because that’s where so much of our love lived.That night was dope. That night felt like him. My dad is the reason I fell in love with sports. That path opened doors I never knew existed in photography, and every time I step into a new room, a new arena, a new opportunity… he’s there. Quiet. Present. Proud. Today is hard. It always is. But it’s also a celebration of the man who shaped me, pushed me, challenged me, and saw the future in me long before I did. Dad on today and every day, I honor you. I carry you. I hear you. I love you. Happy heavenly birthday. My favorite angel always. 🕊️...