It’s so weird. I feel like that’s so tough. You just know, you do. I feel like if I could explain that, I’d probably be better at writing songs or something. If I knew the trick to it, then I would just do it every time and just always land the dismount. I don’t think that every song I write is the song, but it’s part of the practice of staying in your expression and your expressiveness and just trying to find the nerve and hit the nerve well every time. You know when you hit the nerve, it’s like hitting a funny bone or on your knee when they’re doing the reflex thing at the doctor. It’s like you just know when you hit it and you know when you’re not hitting it.

It really comes down to instincts. If I feel good about it and the people that I trust that are listening to it feel good about it, then it’s good to go. But it’s definitely just a feeling you get in your gut that it’s done, and it’s time to either release it or can it and move on.

It’s always hard to decide when something’s done. To go back to the painting metaphor, maybe deciding something’s done is just letting the canvas dry and stepping away. There is this simple resignation that takes place. The benefit of working with collaborators is you get the take and that’s what you have. So that’s also something that helps push projects to completion. And also, scary deadlines. Scary deadlines are always a great way to finish projects, which is why composing can sometimes be a great antidote to whatever baked-in perfectionism I might have. With artist records, you can take years and you can say this isn’t good enough, but then you have a deadline for a project and they’re like, “We need the stems by Tuesday at midnight,” and you have to do it. Accepting something is good enough is a skill in and of itself.

For me, especially with this last book, I had nothing else to say about these characters from this point in their lives. I felt like I’d reached the end of what they’re telling me—it wasn’t even what they’re telling the story, it’s more what versions of them I needed at that time.

Visibility doesn’t equal power.

I work on other things. There's usually more than one project brewing. I also write. I also listen to talks; I love listening to black feminist thinkers or listening to people read their poetry. What I try to do is fill my arsenal. I'll put this shit down or I'll pick something else up. Like some days, I just take whole days where I "play," and that's where I'll only do production stuff.

This process has also involved slowing down and refusing a certain amount of labor that has been imposed upon me as a Black woman in this country.

You can become a different person. That’s actually my favorite thing about Malcolm X is that he transformed himself multiple times over. He became a different person and always for the better. He kept leveling up.

One of my biggest disappointments: I used to take piano lessons as a young girl, and then I stopped, because I was having a really difficult year as a kid. My step father had died, and I didn't want to do anything -- so I just stopped taking lessons. And then I think back and I'm like, “Damn, I could have been Nina Simone!” Haha

It requires me to be in prayer and meditation daily, or else I will literally spiral out. It’s something that I put at the forefront of my life.