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(Not) Content Not Curated

On being introduced to new art—ahem, content—via a short story about street hip-hop and crate digging, among other things . Before I knew it, I was surrounded. They were all around me, pressing closer and closer, and their eyes were piercing. Every time I turned

Easterly: Notes From a Black Life in East Asia

[…] I understand that China has no use for my affections. They will not save me from what many in this country see as the unforgivable fact of my foreignness, my blackness. Most pressingly, these affections will not save any of us from the long-term effects that exposure to this environment is having on our bodies.