It’s a Sunday morning, the clouds are out in all their glory; my kind of Sunday morning good weather. Rosy is at her table. The one she sits at every morning, rain or shine. The one with the yellow cabana and the small pots of hydrangeas and lilies and things… She’s ou...

                                                                                                                                ~...

It's a round shiny ball of fire, you know? That beautiful piece of art that warms the heart and soul and whispers in one's ears "wake up." She caresses the frost off of every blade of grass, tickles the cold out of a squirrel's bones, kisses the snail out of his little...

It's a different world out here.

Growing up in Nigeria, I never thought I would one day become a filmmaker, but here I am today in Los Angeles, fighting for my piece of the pie... How that came about? Well, lets start from the beginning:

I always wanted to be a musician,...

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