Sirens in the headlines, snow in the streets, and that low-grade hum of anxiety—yet we still have to make breakfast, answer emails, and figure out who we want to be. We open up about a week shaped by national strikes, immigration fear, and the relentless churn of news, and we ask a simple but urgent question: how do we keep living creatively when the ground won’t stop moving?
We start with the anchors that hold: music before media, incense before inbox, water before coffee, a Sunday outfit ritual that gifts back time on Monday. From there, we trace how creative practice becomes witness. Adrian shares the lineage of political design—from early propaganda to Emory Douglas and beyond—and how posters, zines, and printed matter can slow time and preserve truth when feeds erase context by noon. Nicole talks about weaving the moment into her reporting and cookbook work, acknowledging the world inside a single sentence so professionalism doesn’t feel like denial.
Community care takes the mic. We talk calling friends instead of texting, sharing voice notes that carry tone and tenderness, and checking on immigrant-owned restaurants navigating fear and strikes. We also map boundaries: how to respond when people dismiss identity, excuse cruelty, or pretend not to notice what’s burning. Education shows up as praxis—teaching kids what a strike is, pairing words with museum visits and books, and turning facts into stories that stick.
Action scales from the kitchen table to City Hall: voting every time, knowing your local reps, and asking your workplace to act like people work there. And yes, we make a case for joy without guilt—dance floors and acupuncture, haircuts and Alice Coltrane, the small restorations that keep us in the fight. If you need a blueprint for steadiness, a nudge toward courage, and a reminder that creativity can be both shelter and signal, press play.
If this spoke to you, follow the show, share it with a friend who needs grounding, and leave a review so more folks can find us. Your voice helps this community grow.

We dig into how third places — beyond home and work — shape creative lives, community ties, and everyday joy. From bookstores and gardens to restaurants, retreats, and our own living rooms, we map what makes a space feel safe, human, and alive.
• defining third places in 2026 and why they matter
• analog habits, dry-January resets, and meeting IRL
• bookstores, libraries, gardens, and record stores as daydream zones
• restaurants as cultural anchors and economic engines
• hotel lobbies, social clubs, and the cost of belonging
• building third spaces at home with simple programming
• the role of friction, presence, and shared energy in creativity
• spades tables, game nights, and designing for connection
• questions we ask listeners about missing third places
Follow us on Spotify, Apple, or wherever you listen

Have you ever walked into a space and immediately felt at home? That invisible but palpable sense of belonging isn't accidental—it's what we call "kinfolk energy," and it's at the heart of creating communities that nurture us in ways that transcend blood relations.
In this intimate conversation, we unpack our 21-year journey of building sacred spaces across multiple cities. From our first home off Bankhead in Atlanta to our Brooklyn apartment and art studio in Red Hook, to our current Maroon House in Athens, we've cultivated environments where people literally don't want to leave. But what makes these spaces so magnetic?
The roots of kinfolk energy run deep in Black American history. We trace this concept from Maroon societies—communities of escaped enslaved people who created self-sufficient havens—to the Great Migration networks where someone you'd never met would become "cousin" for life after helping you find housing and work in a new city. These weren't just survival tactics; they were profound expressions of community care that continue to influence how we build our worlds today.
Creating kinfolk energy requires both openness and boundaries. Not everyone deserves access to your sacred spaces, and learning this distinction is part of maturing as a community builder. We share practical wisdom about finding your different "tribes," being intentionally hospitable, and bringing your authentic self wherever you go. From the simple act of providing clean socks for guests in our shoeless home to hosting regular gatherings that feel effortless after decades of practice, we reveal how attention to detail communicates care in powerful ways.
As we navigate increasingly disconnected times, rekindling kinfolk energy might be our most radical act. Step back into freedom, pursue interests that naturally connect you with like-minded souls, and remember that community isn't something you find—it's something you create, one sacred space at a time.

You've been tuned in to Graphite Radio, where creativity meets culture. Part of the Kaffeine Audio Network and proudly distributed by Pepper Labs. Thanks for joining us on this journey of ideas, art, and innovation. Be sure to subscribe and stay connected for more stories that shape the world we create. Until next time, keep sketching your vision into reality.

• What does it mean to create an intentional space for living”
• Set the tone, who we are
• What is living space
• The first time we created that space, what were those things?
• What were the learnings from that space?

Welcome to The Maroon Life, a podcast celebrating the art of creative living — where freedom, personal style, community, and Black joy intersect.

In our pilot episode, we explore what it means to live boldly, create with intention, and make space for the stories that define us. This is for the builders, the dreamers, the doers — and those who choose to live life on their own terms.