Follow along throughout the show!

What happens when your head and heart are at war?

When hope and fear cannot occupy the same space

When strategy fails, emotions backfire, and you’re left to pick up the pieces.

Welcome to the immersive inner dialogue of Richard Samuel

🎵 String Quartet no. 5 - Philip Glass

movement i

movement ii

Raised by brave women, I can pick my own palette

They taught me bravery, now I can not fail it

How can I lose, when all I accept is success?

I have no fear about what challenge is next

Before embodying the canvas, I painted plays on the field

I was Silk Samuel, smooth as a brushstroke

Coaches called me SweetFeet, cause I juked & slide

The way I Tiger walked on the scene

As this heart expands, I bring life to my dreams

Opened the gallery doors and saw bright light beams

Heavenly intentions flowed to me like streams

I learned to move like water, even in extremes

Hallo from Germany, black boy from Wimberley

Burgundy, perspiration, and tears soaked my jersey

Years passed before y’all heard me

My Achilles heel poppin was a step back,

but popped a new idea in my mind do you get that?

My art resides deep inside

It is a calling I wish to watch coincide

With my discipline and engagement

I’m not satisfied with being complacent

I know that I stand on the shoulders of ancestors

Because optimism is revolutionary

I laid up post op, planning my new operation

At this fork in the road, even when life went left, hope pointed me right

🎵 more String Quartet no. 5, movement ii

at first I felt so much excitement

the feelings propelled me into alignment

I was so sure I had everything right

but inside I feel I am losing the fight

I mix the colors but they turn to muck

I tried to paint but the brush got stuck

these strong emotions whirl within

and they leave me feeling so without

without my head, where did it go?

it made so much sense, but now I don’t know

I want the hope I felt before, but it’s getting hard

at first it felt like breathing, now it’s tearing me apart

I still believe, but I’m losing steam

I still believe, but I’m losing me

🎵 The Four Seasons, Winter - Antonio Vivaldi

Allegro non Molto

Largo

Allegro

maybe this dream is too big for reality

maybe I’m entrapped by mortality

if I have this one precious life

there’s so much pressure to do right

I really don’t feel I have much left

I’m sat here looking at my big mess

Should I hold on to this vision?

or is there something I am missing?

Am I naive for trusting what I can’t see?

or is this the gift bestowed upon me?

these negative voices are hard to ignore

but this heart in me won’t close the door

I made something from nothing

but maybe I’m not meant for everything

I want it all

but I’m stuck on stall

I want it all

but I’m about to fall

🎵 String Quartet no. 5, movement iii - Philip Glass

When I think about my dreams, I’m frightened

When my brain’s anxiety hijacks my nervous system

Imposter syndrome, feels like being locked out of your own body

It renders me to writers Block

I used to ride the block like Hakeem, the dream,

I’m trying to shake off the pressure of

Depression, when I think about my brothers seeking cloud nine,

but found heaven

When I look at my drawing hand, hope it never draws a 9

When I made it past 30, I thought I finally hit my prime

Opening up the gallery, let you see within my mind

The most vulnerable thing I’ve done

Burning questions, yet walked straight into the sun

Since I traded my helmet & pads

Did I fear failure more than I desired success?

🎵 Lyric for Strings - George Walker

🎵 String Quartet no. 5, movement iv - Philip Glass

I float like a dream, sting like regret

There’s this feeling deep down, that something must be done

But as equally deep, there’s a struggle to do it

I’m FED UP!

Ready to run from the rat race

Off this treadmill of futility

I sacrificed my comfort and savings

Maybe I should quit, & just take care of my baby

Man, They told me there’d be days like this,

But damn, never thought it’d stay like this

They told me, “Speak your dreams into existence.”

Well, this is a nightmare

And I was raised to be a fighter

A survivor who made it through 12 rounds,

was knocked down, but can’t knock my nipsey hustle

Yet I tussled, exorcising demons for this dream

Was I foolish to think this dream that can’t be deferred

Well, let my mama tell you

I been accumulating these Ls,

Chasing after these M’s

Think I’m N Over my head,

Pushing P for these dreams 

That means my head’s in the clouds ‘cause

I shot for the stars,

But now, freefalling with no parachute

I’m paranoid, to tell the truth

Can’t fill the void, 

battle between the heart & mind

I’m calling truce

🎵 String Quartet no. 5, movement v - Philip Glass

Was I falling or flying?

I have never felt so alive when dying

I had to shed the shell of the shallow

to solidify the sonnet of my sweet soul  

I know that I put community over competition

I know my heart was gold before I could afford it

I know the worst debt is wasted time

As a starving artist, you kept my heart full

Life has taught me to Maxx-imize my purpose 

See I have a new reason, and she’s absolutely perfect

My rebellious first born, she’s a do-it-herself project

A taste of my own medicine, that I will endlessly protect 

You named me Rich, and now it’s come to fruition

Fruits of your labor have ripened; please come to this feast

This is no Last Supper, for traitors have no place at this table

This is por mi barrio, Granny’s House, & my brothas all around me

I wouldn’t have made it without those I call family

I wouldn't be me without the gift of responsibility 

Richesart has become its own entity

The richest hearts are making a new legacy

I know there’s a weight of the gifted, I almost quit!

Mama told me don’t flirt with it, marry it

Well Mama, I'm ready to remove the veil

Art exists within us all, the most beautiful thing I could ever create

Ego ties, untied ‘em 

Mind and heart, united ‘em

This was the time I almost quit, ain't that enticing?

Instead I turned my pain into art and writing

🎵 CIVIC - Jonathan Bingham