Miami’s Wynwood neighborhood has in recent years become the center of the city’s ballooning arts scene, known as much for its galleries and museums as the murals and graffiti that decorate its buildings. But traces of its industrial past still lurk along the edges, with warehouses lining deserted streets and tall chain-link fences dividing different properties. It’s here that one of the most famous artists of the past two decades has holed up for the last several months, in a low, nondescript building distinguished only by a single word on its front door: Trukfit.
Inside, the building’s a sort of teenage Neverland, complete with a slot machine, foosball, a one-lane bowling alley and, down a short hallway, a massive indoor skate park. It’s late on a sleepy Tuesday night in August, past 10 p.m., and the building is almost completely empty. Which is just fine with the low-keyLil Wayne, who is seated on a leather couch in the second-floor recording studio, wearing shorts and a T-shirt, aThrasherhat over his scattered blond dreads and white socks pulled up high over lime green Vans classics.
Native of New Orleans, who endured 20yrs cruel Minnesota Cold, I decided at 42yrs old it was time to pack up my then 6yr old and come back to my roots. I am all things that would challenge the belief of growing up in New Orleans.
I was a 16yr old teen mother of a preterm 2lb baby girl born with a disability. With the help of my mother who had her own struggles. We survived the obstacles laid before us.
I'm the proud mother of three children with two failed adoptions, as well as a grandmother of three, two grandsons and a granddaughter. I survived two abusive marriages.
I successfully ran a soulfood restaurant and catering company in Minnesota for 12 years. I started creating custom cakes after the murder of my beloved cousin Melvin Paul. He survived Katrina only to go to Minneapolis six months later to be murdered over a parking spot dispute. I put my all into my cake business over the years as House of Cakes was started right out of my house in honor of him.
I thought by having the big house on the hill, a husband, having a family, foster/adoptive mother at that, being involved in all things that matter, plus having the funds to match would cure me in a sense; but most of it poisoned my heart and soul.
I had a broken heart and I felt deep down the only way to repair it was to get back to my roots, my soul, my home, myself, my New Orleans. I'm here and I'm loving it. Even being in the so called Blighted Area of New Orleans and not having all the financial and material security, I'm happy.
I am determined that She, yes New Orleans is a woman is just like me; together we will overcome and will rise from all that tried to kill our spirit. Nothing like starting from the bottom and making your way back up! I'm down in the boot, but I know I have a nice floppy hat awaiting my destiny...