When asked what I miss most about pre-pandemic living, my mind first travels to a crowded dance floor, as I slip and slide around other patrons, dripping in shea butter, sweat, and ecstasy. Collectively, we (re)vision afro//queer communal space as pulsating, sacred havens where blueprints for future worlds are perpetually sketched, rehearsed, performed, documented, and archived.
So, I then wonder, as I near on a year of mostly isolation and solitude, what has become of my capacity to future? Where am I to slip and slide into unabashed bliss? In phase two, I engage in a sankofic line dance with DJs, disco, and a childhood closet, excavating tools and futuring strategies manifested throughout time in these dark, damp basements and illuminating their urgent, critical necessity as we presently shuffle together, in solitude, toward limitless possibilities.