#But dang I can already tell that Editing Me is not gonna be thrilled with what Writing Me left for the revision process

[tswwwit]

There is an exhilaration to reaching a scene you've been thinking about writing for months. And a fear too, as you start to wonder 'shit I hope this turns out okay'.

[puawarriors-production]

Week 17 – Alex – I Told You I’d See You Later

My previous post was a little anti-climactic if you ask me, and I didn’t get to recap what I did so here we gooo.

----------------------FIRST, MAJOR DISCLAIMER---------------

     As you can see, this post is pretty dang long, so I’m just gonna put evaluation stuff for the class here first, and if you feel like reading on afterward that’s cool, but it’s just personal reflections and final send-off stuff. 

     So, shockingly, I was one of the main contributors to the rough animation which you can see in the animatic, and can track the progress of throughout this blog’s history. I finished 15 roughed shots in total. I also have 8 shots concurrently blocked (in other words, partial progress,) and 2 shots unstarted.       I also made the 3D environment models used for reference in making the backgrounds, as well as handling the editing side (video composition, timing, and sound edits) for the animatic up to this point. 

     Next, I worked closely with Sophia and our sound mixer Tim to get the voice actresses recorded, their clips edited, and finally integrated into the film. And also, while this hasn’t made it into the animatic yet, I have been creating some original sound design elements as well. Here’s a sample of some:

I’m focusing mostly on the characters’ Pua powers and transformations right now, and some sludge sounds. And in hand with that, I also did the voice clips/sound effects for the Sludge Monster. Aaand that’s pretty much it from me this semester! Super excited to keep up the work in the weeks to come! If you’re not sticking till the end of the post, then thanks for an awesome class, and awesome semester! 

------------------ The Feels Side of the Post -----------------

                                       The Pua Warriors Experience

     When I first heard about Pua Warriors, I thought the idea sounded awesome: Magical girls set in Hawai'i using flower powers and sparkles to save the day? Yeah I’m down for that. It felt… familiar to me, I suppose. But at the time I still knew relatively little about the characters, the story, and only had a vague idea of their designs.

     As time went on and the Capstone application deadline was approaching, I felt like I was a bit stuck, with the exhaustion of working on Midnight Showing holding me on one side, and having only a vague outline of a plot for my own film idea on the other. And with no crew to speak of, the decision not to make a Capstone of my own was … difficult… one of the most difficult in my time at ACM. Cause in my mind (at the time at least,) not making “your own” Capstone project felt like a failure somehow. But this whole Pua Warriors thing was sounding pretty nice, and I already knew everyone working on it. So I decided life’s better together, and far be it from me to not work on a project of some kind. So I hopped on-board for a little trip into the unknown. And well, here we are, still in the unknown. But that doesn’t mean we’re lost. Not yet.

     I have to say, Pua Warriors has grown on me. At a certain point it stopped feeling like a student film, and started feeling more like a potential series: a world with its own storyline, and indeed one that’s worth telling – yes, I would make a distinction between the two. Working on the project has just been the sweetest, most wonderful, enlightening, mild existential crisis inducing, and bizarrely friendly thing I’ve had the privilege of working on, all at once. It didn’t just change how I approach character design, animation, or working on a team – I feel it changed me for the better as a person, and at times I feel almost unworthy to be on this project.

     One thing I’ll never forget is the time we spent hanging out in the Keller lab, going to group meetings, and recording at MELE. What silly fun times those were. I admit, not being able to hang out with my friends after the virus shut the world down has truly been one of the most difficult parts of my whole “college era” of my life experience. To feel like something great was forming, only to be ripped away by something so crazy and completely over-the-top as this virus – words just can’t capture the feeling of melancholy. But even when we’re spread hundreds or thousands of miles apart, at times I can still feel near, even if it is only through a screen. And personally, I don’t want that to change just because the semester’s ending. That’s why, in a way, I’m sort of glad we have time to work on into the summer.

                                             Reflections on Life

     Some lessons this semester taught me: First is on fitting in. It’s never blending in for the sake of blending in, nor standing out for the sake of standing out. It’s being comfortably unique in your own talents and skills, strengths and weaknesses, styles and tastes - while being happy to share those things with others. Indeed, it’s not about being “good enough” to belong, but rather belonging, in order that may do good for others. Second is on wanting to help. For a long time I remained kind of a loner in ACM, sitting in “my” corner with “my” ideas. It wasn’t until last semester and especially during this semester I realized just how powerful, or perhaps rather how much more powerful the drive to help and serve others can be. That’s true not just for creative endeavors, but all areas of life. The Third lesson: doing things for the right reasons. We do things for a lot of different reasons, and often times we aren’t cognizant of why we act or feel the way we do. Having an understanding of who you truly are and what you really want is critical in exercising self-control, and you may come to realize your desires aren’t always what you think they are. And the Fourth lesson is on being assertive. We all want and feel things, and one of the greatest feelings is being in control. You may doubt yourself when you don’t know where your feelings and desires come from. You may think your mind is playing tricks on you. But the truth is, we’ll never go places in life if we don’t speak up and acknowledge our ideas. We may not always come to the right conclusions, but that doesn’t mean we’re wrong for trying. So try, try, and try again. It’s okay to fail, as long as you pick up something with you as you get up. Take risks, and understand that doubt is often our greatest enemy, so fight it!

     So now, at the end, I don’t really know what I feel: I don’t know if this is sadness or happiness? Courage or fear? Maybe it’s none of those things, but something I haven’t quite felt before. Until recently, I didn’t realize there’s an emotion that can make you feel so weak, yet feel strong at the same time. One thing’s for sure, I’m going to miss the project, the crew, and all of Hawai'i. To us, the future is a blank slate: nothing is written on it, yet it holds an infinite number of possibilities. 

                                          Honoring my Maker

     Now before I wrap up, I have a specific topic I’d like to address.

     While I  usually avoid discussing my religious life openly in a scholastic context, I will say here and now that God has been my greatest help throughout these past couple years. For the longest time, even before coming to Hawai'i, I struggled with feelings of not fitting in, of low self-esteem, and of self-doubt. There were a lot of recurring battles at my home growing up, and many of the wounds followed me into adulthood. And if nothing else, this semester has brought many of those to the forefront.

     As a child back in Washington, I would often just go with the flow of my friends at the time, because it was easier, and allowed me to avoid conflict. Yet I would be lead into instances where I would not speak up or act, even though I felt what we were doing, thinking, or saying was wrong. My family wasn’t particularly religious, or at least they certainly didn’t act like it. And for a while I think I didn’t believe in God. Maybe there was some higher power... maybe, perhaps, but not God. Yet still I felt a crushing weight on my conscience, for both the things I had done, and the things I had failed to do. So I watched TV shows and movies to help me feel safe, to distract myself, and indeed to feel as if I had more power than I actually did. 

     There came a time in middle school when a big storm came through my life, and when I was living in fear, I turned to God, and He helped me through it. And again in high school, God helped me. And in college, many times more. Through it all, God answered my prayers, and showed me there is a better way. And I came to understand that He gave me a way to life through His Son, long before I was even born. And because of that, I could find comfort and rest by trusting in Him through the afflictions I faced.      So the way I see it, God has lead my life in a way neither I, nor any human being could. I have found that He has a purpose for all things, and truly that nothing comes by accident. I may not say it aloud, but I observe it every day in the places He sets me in, and the people with whom He places me. Yes, even in the midst of this virus. So while family and friends may not always be there to support me, and while institutions may crumble and fall, and while I may move away and feel isolated from all I’ve known, my God was, is, and always will be with me. There is nothing more empowering or reassuring than that. And without coming off too preachy, my hope is that people might perhaps look at that reflected in my life - to see the work God has done, and to consider their own relationship with Him.

                                                       Roll Call

     Next, I have a few shout-outs I’d like to mention.

     First, to my wonderful film Director Sophia: What can I say? This project has been simply amazing to work on with you. I think back to the moment I first overheard you talking about Pua Warriors. You were so thrilled to do it, and that’s when I realized I might want to jump onboard as well. Since then, the only adjective that comes to mind describing this experience is “vibrant.” I know there have been a lot of ups and downs, but that’s part of what makes the experience worth remembering. And there may very well be more hills and valleys to go through, but I actually look forward to them every day with you, as we continue to make this film happen. You shine like a star with a brilliant, positive energy I’ve never seen before. And I think you have a much greater potential than perhaps even you yourself realize. Of course, everyone has room to grow, but that doesn’t reflect poorly on you at all. It’s the fact that you’ve been so supportive of your team, and that you didn’t give up on your vision, and indeed, you’ve made massive efforts to grow this semester – that’s what makes you a good director in my eyes. And to be honest, I wouldn’t have anybody else direct the film – certainly at least not this “episode” anyway. It’s been a lasting experience, and I hope you’ll take what you’ve learned from it with you. You have a bright future ahead of you Sophia – all you need to do is reach out to it!

     Next, to the Art Director and my good friend Gavin, wow what a ride this has been. Your artistic vision, your stamina, and your work ethic are so very remarkable. It’s been awesome these last few years getting to know you and work with you through all the late nights and long class periods. And especially through Midnight Showing and Pua Warriors. You basically set the standard that I and most other animation students aspire to, and you have such a unique way of looking at things too. Even when you’re feeling drained from all the work, your passion clearly shows, and you know how to communicate both very clearly, AND very, uh, sassily, which makes hanging around you hilarious. You’re also one of the only people on Earth that could get me to watch Clone Wars, and I don’t regret it. You give exceptional feedback in each critique, and though it can be tough to incorporate sometimes, you make listening to you a worthwhile endeavor. ACM simply would not be what it is without you, and I know you have many great things you’ll do with your skills moving forward.

     To our excellent Animation Supervisor Chandelle, this semester’s been a tough one, but even in the darkest times, the sun still rises! You’ve always been an awesome animator, an incredibly hard worker, and an exceptionally friendly and helpful member of the group. And what’s more, you never sought to put the spotlight on yourself for it. You do things simply because you care, and you do them with such a level of discipline and professionalism that few in the ACM department could match it. I’m sure I speak for the whole group when I say, we care about you so much, and we’re just thankful you’ve been with us on the project. Never sell yourself short Chandelle! You’ve conquered some major obstacles in the past, and I know you have it in you to overcome this one as well.The light will shine again someday, so hang in there, and thanks for all the help you’ve given!

     To my fellow animation friend Jared, man, have I got a lot of respect for you. You really know what it’s like to get down and dirty for the team, or feel stuck in a rut in the middle of a project. This last year has probably tested you the most, and yet you never fell apart. Sure, cracks may have formed at times, but you held together and pulled on through to the end. That proves you’ve got guts, and a great capacity for patience and accommodation especially in times of crisis. And that’s exactly what we need - that kind of boldness and passion, to be able to outlast our worries, especially when there are so many unknowns. I remember back to Midnight Showing; boy, that felt like a big time of unknowns too. We had no idea what was coming. And yet you outmatched it, and sure enough, things worked out in the end. And because you’ve been so humble and willing to improve yourself, I’ve seen you get so much better over these last few years, and frankly, it’s astonishing! You’re a great friend, and a hard worker Jared. Keep it up! You’ve got this!

     I’d also like mention my fellow animation friend Kalilinoe! Even though we’re not in the same team this semester, you’re still an awesome and inspiring animator to have in class! Working together on Midnight Showing last semester was a lot of work, but also so much fun! And I love your style of animation using rotoscoping. And I gotta say, the animation in Pua Ka Uahi looks sooo smooth and beautiful. Watching your progress on the film this semester has been super inspiring, and definitely keeps the other teams on their toes! I can’t wait to see the finished film!

     I’ll also make a brief mention of Jayme and Bobby from our 320/420 classes! You guys rock, and made the year all the better! I hope we’ll get to hang out again sometime! 

     PLUS, A big thanks to the whole Capstone class! Stay creative, and best wishes to you all!

     And finally, one last big shout-out to Lisette for making all of this possible! You’ve been an awesome teacher not just for this course, but for the last few years in general! You always bring such wisdom and expert film knowledge to us younglings. And you’re so willing to make yourself available to your students; always helpful and encouraging to everyone, and even more so now during this time. That’s just the kind of support we need! I’ll be missing your classes greatly! Thanks so much for all your care and help!

                                              A New Chapter Begins

Well, that pretty much wraps up my blog (for the school-production time anyway) of Pua Warriors. I’d like to once again thank each and every one of you for making the ACM experience so incredible. I think I like posting, so I’ll probably try to keep up with the blogs for the future, or at least make an update every once in a while. Thanks for reading through this epic conclusion of a post. 

Until next time my friends! This is Alex(is) Nelson, Ganitine, the Undercover Animator, uncovered! See you next time!

[whowouldhavethoughts]

Issa Rae Opens Up About Insecure’s Success, Relatable Black Characters and Why You Should Spam Your College Listserv

The last few years of Issa Rae’s life have seemingly been filled with success and recognition. 

The HBO show she co-created and stars in, Insecure, debuted to glowing reviews and earned her a Golden Globe nomination. She followed that up with Essence magazine’s 2017 Vanguard Award, and Rae already had a book on The New York Times best-selling list.

But when I recently asked Rae whether or not she still feels like an awkward black girl, she responded:

 “How can I not? Yes absolutely.”

Before the accolades and recognition, Issa Rae was the internet’s prime heiress of awkwardness, and she put it on full-display in her hilarious web series, The Mis-Adventures of Awkward Black Girl. The show gained big-name fans like Pharrell Williams and Gabrielle Union but resonated even more with its regular viewers. When I discovered the show in 2011, I finally felt like I saw myself represented through a black character who was normal. Rae upended Hollywood’s lazy tropes and stereotypes and helped validate the fact that, yes, black people are weird and awkward too. 

Rae’s comedic wit also grabbed the attention of Rolling Stone magazine, who named her one of the “23 funniest people in America,” and her creative savvy earned her a spot on Forbes magazine’s “30 under 30” list.  

So yes, the 32-year-old has made quite the name for herself, but through it all, she’s still made it a point to give back. Her media initiative, Color Creative TV, was created as a chance to give underrepresented voices in media a seat at the table when others had automatically closed the door in the past. 

With this in mind, Rae recently spoke at NC Central University as part of the school’s Lyceum Series and graciously made time to chat with me in a brief interview before the event. The following interview has been edited for clarity.    

Ngozi: First of all, thanks for being here. Basic question for you – you’ve gone from being a Youtube content creator with your Shorty award-winning web series, The Mis-Adventures of Awkward Black Girl, to now a Golden Globe nominated actress for your HBO show Insecure. What’s this entire process been like? Did you ever imagine it would get to this point for you? 

Issa: I definitely didn’t imagine that. You know, you hope and you work hard, and you hope that people see your work and they like it. For me, it started off just putting work online and wanting to put out images that I was not seeing out there, because I was constantly talking mess about, like, what I was not seeing. Like, “Why aren’t there any — why aren’t these types of characters that are black on-screen? Why don’t people portray alternative representations of black people?” There’s always the same specific types and the same type of comedy that’s put out there and relegated to us, and I was talking so much mess, like on a blog. Somebody was like, “You talk a lot of mess. Why don’t you just do it?” And I was like, “Well I can. I guess I can do it.” 

So I produced Awkward Black Girl just so that I could continue to talk mess, and then people really took to it, and I realized that I had a built-in audience online. From that point forward, it was just about continuing to try to be authentic and create work that I wanted to see, and people started to take notice. 

The process of transitioning from the internet to television has been a learning experience, but I’m so happy with who I’ve been able to work with today and thrilled that the show is resonating with people. 

Ngozi: Going off of that, that it’s resonating with people – I know that in an interview you did, I think it was with The Hollywood Reporter, you said [with] Insecure you wanted to make a show that made black people “relatable.” From the responses you’ve gotten, do you feel like you’ve been able to achieve that, and how do you hope to do that in work that you’re doing in the future? 

Issa: Yes. I mean, I feel like the way that people are responding and the different types of people who come up to me of all ages to say that they watch the show always astonishes me. I remember being in Chicago and screening it for an older audience, and I was sitting behind these older black women who were like in their 70s and 80s, and I was already like, “Oh dang, they about to go in on me.” I’m right behind them, the language is terrible – you know, we say the P-word multiple times in the episode. So I was just waiting, and I watched them crack up, especially with the use of the P-word, and I was like, “What they been through where they relate?” It was just so refreshing. 

People of all backgrounds have come up to me to say that they might not have gone through those specific experiences, but they understand it, and they get it, and they know these characters, and that’s all you can ask for. 

Ngozi: [What] do you tell people who I’m sure ask you: Is this character based on you, and is this character you? Because seeing the show, there’s a lot of things that – I don’t want to give away storylines if people haven’t seen it – but there’s a lot of things where I’m sure you’re like, “No, that’s not actually me.”

Issa: Yeah, I mean, I say that the character is me if I didn’t know what I wanted to do and if I made different choices in life. I feel like the essence of her is a younger past version of me, but it’s definitely not autobiographical by any means. It’s based off of a lot of people I know and friendships, and even in the writer’s room, just a lot of the stories that our room tells. I say that every writer in the room has a chunk or morsel or piece of their lives in this show, and I think that’s what makes it relatable. That’s what makes it like a human experience at the end of the day. 

Ngozi: For you, too, you’re also a New York Times best-selling author, and I know in your book you talked a lot about growing up where you’ve lived in different places – like Maryland, be it in LA or Senegal. How has living in those different places and those different experiences influenced your storytelling or maybe some of the characters that you’ve wanted to create? 

Issa: I mean, I think just as much as anybody is defined by their experiences, I think I’ve always been in a state of transition just in terms of, you know, switching cities and moving every two years and switching schools every two years. I’ve always had to adjust and kind of ask myself who I wanted to be at this new school – how I wanted to make friends, how I would approach it, how I was going to fit in. I think in a kind of out of body way, you’re always observing how other people observe you, and that’s the nature of a lot of my work. That’s also, coincidentally, the nature of being black, and I’m sure the two have informed a lot of my experiences and a lot of the stories that I want to tell. So those experiences, I always refer to whenever I’m writing something new.

Ngozi: For things that you’re doing like this [speech] where you go and speak to students or other people of color [or] young creators, you’ve always been about giving back. What’s some of the advice that you would give to some of the people in the audience who are coming to hear you speak? 

Issa: I’m speaking on a college campus, and a college campus is where I got started. You know, it’s where I met most of the people that I work with currently. It’s where I was able to experiment the most, just in terms of taking advantage of the school’s resources. This is the only time where you’re going to have kind of a forced audience. Like I talk about how there were listservs at my college where you could literally just submit your project to an email list. You’d be that person who was spamming, like spamming the black people like, “Hey I have this web series, watch it,” and you’d get some guaranteed eyeballs. 

So really take advantage of the community that you have here and the people that you meet here who are gonna rise with you, alongside you, next to you, and make sure that you incorporate them in whatever you wanna do. 

 Season 2 of Issa Rae’s HBO series, Insecure, premieres July 23rd.

[junker-town]

I rode around Houston with Paul Wall during Super Bowl week

It turns out that Paul Wall’s life is exactly what you want Paul Wall’s life to be.

HOUSTON — Paul Wall is going to be late again. He calls to tell me this as I’m waiting for him outside a Starbucks off of I-10, one of Houston’s looping, overpass-laden highways. It’s about two hours after we were initially supposed to meet on Wednesday before the Super Bowl, because this morning Paul Wall’s friend unexpectedly got out of jail and he had to go pick him up.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” Paul Wall says on the phone. “Houston traffic is so bad. I’m about 15 minutes away.”

About thirty minutes and a few apologetic texts later, Paul Wall walks up to me. I didn’t see him pull into the parking lot, but here is, wearing black jeans, a baggy T-shirt, and the most spectacular set of grillz I’ve ever seen — gold rimmed, diamond-encrusted mouth guards strapped to both his top and bottom teeth. His flat-brim hat says “HOU,” and his facial hair is limited exclusively to his chin.

He shakes my hand, apologizes again, and leads me to his black Cadillac that he’s parked in front of the dry cleaners next to the Starbucks. We get inside.

I’m hanging out with Paul Wall because hanging out with Paul Wall seems like the right thing to do when Houston hosts the Super Bowl. The rapper and Houston native is deeply rooted in the city’s music scene, custom car and jewelry worlds, and sports community. I should also tell you that I’m referring to Paul Wall in this article exclusively by his full name, because “Wall” doesn’t feel right and neither does “Paul.” But “Paul Wall” is poetry.

There are two cans of Red Bull (they’re orange and they look special, maybe, like, a limited-edition situation) in the cup holders of the car, which smells very new and is very clean. Paul Wall sends a few texts and then pulls out and into traffic, thanking me for being patient while he picked up his newly-freed friend, who he says did two and a half years for felony and possession of a handgun (“yeah, sucks”).

We stop at a red light and I ask where we’re going. Paul Wall says we can go anywhere — he lives around here, near Houston Heights, and he has about an hour before he has to go get rims put on the Cadillac we’re riding around in. He just got it yesterday, adding it to the collection of six other Cadillacs he already owns.

“Oh, really? Rims?” I ask.

“Yeah, I’m putting swingers on the car,” Paul Wall says.

“Are you doing that today?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he says.

“Can I come with?” I ask.

“Nah, not really,” Paul Wall shakes his head apologetically. “‘cause I gotta go pick up somebody else and there’s not gonna be room. The rims gotta fit in the backseat.”

I ask what kind of rims he’s getting, even though I don’t know the difference between rims, nor do I know the names of any rims, so the answer won’t mean much. But it feels important.

“The elbows!” Paul Wall says, getting animated. “They’re called Texan wide wheels, you know, tippin on fo’ fo’s.”

Paul Wall laughs. He talks lyrically, almost with a deliberate rhythm, interspersing “mans” and “you knows” throughout his speech as though they were ad libs in a rap song. Speaking of rap songs, he starts to play some of his own using the fancy buttons on his steering wheel. All of the tracks are screwed and chopped. It sounds like molasses mixed with sidewalk grit. In a good way.

Driving through Houston’s gridded streets, passing strip mall after strip mall, with Paul Wall is surreal. In fact, it’s almost too good to be true. Because Paul Wall’s life is exactly what you want Paul Wall’s life to be: One in which a totally normal day entails literally living out the song “Throw some D’s.”

And Houston is the perfect beat for his daily bars. The city mirrors Paul Wall, and Paul Wall mirrors the city — his drawl matches its sprawl, his car moves through the streets the way the slightly sticky heat comes through on breezes.

But for all the rap song things he does, Paul Wall is a family man now. He’s dedicated to his wife Crystal (who owns a fitness gym for women and is doing some sort of fitness performance downtown as we speak, although Paul Wall doesn’t totally know what that entails) and their two kids. He’ll go to the studio to record at night, and often spends his days with his family, tricking out cars, or at the jewelry shop he owns with his business partner Johnny Dang.

Paul Wall and Johnny Dang supply grillz to many of Houston’s athletes, including Arian Foster, Duane Brown and his wife Devon (or “Devvy Dev,” as Paul Wall calls her), and Andre Johnson. I ask if they’ve made J.J. Watt a grill, and Paul Wall says that they haven’t, but that Watt definitely needs one. They’ve also made Venus and Serena Williams grillz, and Shaq has a Paul Wall special, too. I ask if there’s anyone Paul Wall hasn’t made a grill for that he thinks needs one.

“I’m a huge baseball fan,” he says. “Roger Clemens. That’s my boy. We gotta get Roger a grill. Put the word out, man.”

As we’re stopped at another Houston stop light, which I’m convinced the city has more of per capita than any place else in America, a pickup truck pulls up beside us with a Weber grill in the truck bed.

Paul Wall is thrilled that the Super Bowl is in Houston this year because it brings attention to his city. But he’s not going.

“I’m trying to get some tickets, though,” he says, making a hard right turn off of a main drag onto a frontage road that tracks the highway beneath an overpass. “I’m trying to get ‘em to sell ‘em. Those tickets cost too much, man, if I get tickets I’m for sure selling those bad boys.”

“With Houston, the H stands for ‘hustle.’ There’s a billboard that says, ‘Houston, hustle, heart, and home.’ That encompasses Houston.”

“What if you performed for tickets?” I ask. “You should’ve told them you’d perform.”

“We tried, you know, they’re not trying to have us, though.” Paul Wall says. “They wanna do the Lady Gaga thing, that’s what they’re trying to have. It is what it is, you know. I understand it, but, I mean, I personally don’t know any football fans who are interested at all in Lady Gaga. They’re trying to expand the reach of who the fans are, man. But Beyoncé did the Super Bowl halftime a few times, so, here in Houston, I would expect or hope they’d have gotten Beyoncé!”

I nod vigorously as Paul Wall continues to suggest alternative halftime show performers for Super Bowl LI.

“You don’t know who’s going to be in the Super Bowl, but Atlanta, they got so many good artists,” he says. “Maybe Usher or somebody, I don’t know. There’s 50 artists it could’ve been from Atlanta. Man, the Migos, definitely the Migos, man. Then there’s people like 2 Chainz, T.I., Ludacris. He’s doing more acting, same with T.I. T.I. balances his music and acting out. He still comes with the music. Nonstop.”

I ask what Paul Wall thinks the difference between Houston and Atlanta rap is, and he tells me they used to be two very distinct sounds. But these days, the styles have blended.

“It’s dope to see that there’s a bridge,” he says. “And I appreciate that there’s an open door and an avenue for us to work with each other and support each other and all that.”

Paul Wall is very close with other Houston rappers — guys like Slim Thug, Bun B., Zero. I ask him how Chamillionaire is these days. His face lights up.

“Now that boy, there,” he says, “he invested in an app, and the app sold for 700 million dollars.”

“What was the app?” I ask. “Are you kidding me?”

“Nah, he won’t tell me!” Paul Wall pulls off the frontage road and out of traffic, onto a straightaway that cuts through a neighborhood. There are finally no stoplights and no other cars on the road. He picks up speed. We’re cooking. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt so alive.

“No, I mean, I just can’t remember what the app was, man, it’s something, man.” Paul Wall says. “That boy, maaaaan! So I’m like, man, let your boy hold something. Let your boy hold something!”

I’m not sure Paul Wall knows what an app is, because a quick Google search shows that Chamillionaire joining Mark Suster's Upfront Ventures as entrepreneur-in-residence is likely what he’s referencing.

Another track starts playing and Paul Wall turns it up. The Cadillac has a great sound system, and he raises his voice a bit over the beat to tell me that this song features his wife, son, and nine-year-old daughter signing on the hook, and his daughter free-styling one of the verses. He can’t believe it; she hadn’t even been practicing. He beams with pride.

The song is an anti-bullying song. Paul Wall says that his healthy and intact family is a real role model for other people in the community, especially in Houston’s hip hop world. He says the song is about never giving up, staying motivated, and trying to inspire other people.

Paul Wall is a guy who cares. He cares about the people he loves and he cares deeply about his city, which he says is more diverse and more open than a lot of other places in the U.S.

“With Houston, the H stands for ‘hustle,’” he says. “There’s a billboard that says, ‘Houston, hustle, heart, and home.’ That encompasses Houston. You know, the love we have, that we show, but also the hustle we have, I think that comes from us being so far away from the rest of the media, kind of separate from everywhere else in the country.

“Dallas is more in line with mainstream America,” he continues, “But Houston’s farther down on the map where it’s a little different. I think it’s the slowness of our culture, how we move slow. It’s hot in here, you know. We got our own culture, our own slang, a little bit our own way of doing things.”

Paul Wall swerves to avoid getting into an accident and pulls back onto I-10. He starts to talk about how great the Super Bowl has been for the city’s visibility. But he’s wary of the attention, too.

“Social media has brought the whole world together, and that’s good in some ways and bad in others, because a lot of the individuality that we all had, everybody shares it now,” he says. “We’re all just one Instagram post away. And it is what it is, but a lot of the slang, what we do, what we talk about in our music — people didn’t understand because they couldn’t see what we were talking about. But now they can see what we’re talking about. So it’s good and bad because now everyone else is talking about the same things we’re talking about.”

“Do you mean that it dilutes the culture a little?” I ask. We’re pulling into a gas station off the side of the highway. Paul Wall pulls up to one of the pumps.

“Yeah, it waters it down like a motherfucker,” Paul Wall says. “But you’ve gotta take the good with the bad — we want everyone to embrace our culture and not look down, but at the same time, we don’t want them to take our culture and make it their culture. So where’s the happy medium in all of that?”

Paul Wall shakes his head. I ask if we’re getting gas, even though we’re obviously getting gas.

“Yeah, I was gonna get gas,” he says. “This also might be a good place to drop you off, it’s not too far from downtown where you’re going.”

I agree, thank Paul Wall for his time, and shake his hand. He gives me a copy of his mixtape and asks if I need anything from the convenience store. I tell him I’m good, and he smiles — flashing his beautiful grillz one more time — before he makes his way across the hot pavement and disappears into the store. His car sits by the pump, its black paint reflecting the waning evening light. The wheels are rimless for now, but in a few hours, Paul Wall will make them shine.