The Aquarius. .

Who I am and what I do seem to vary by mod, mood, and mode of expression. I write. I act. I perform. Most of the labels that are projected onto me are seldom how I would choose to refer to myself. Yet regardless of how much I might dodge classification the one label that I tote freely is that of being an artist. And it is the art of self expression that has heightened my experience on this planet and fueled my understanding of love, compassion, as well as humanity. Is is the chronicle of my growth as an artist, daughter, friend, lover and individual. I am .... Desarray A. and Desarray A is the walking oxymoron to cloud 9's achilles heel. Black words written on white lines. Free verses, a bipolar rubix cube. AmericasProm Queen, sitting in Black Barbies coffin. An ongoing social experiment, Jkyell and Hydes stepdaughter. I want to be like me when I grow up. A Brooklyn N.Y native, my words are lyrics to spoken word music. I have insanity, my insanity does not have me. I am Desarray A. and Desarray A. is me. My Pen is spiritually identically mathematically statically speaking, turning 21, exceeding its life expectancy. Different from yours, it is still ignored by the 4 doors, by the dwells of imagination.