Cebo Campbell

Pieces

A collection of prose discarded in sorrow

Brother

He was brave in ways that did not make big legends, but drilled bad boys into good men. He was the one to remind us to say thank you, to step aside for our elders, and to return the things we stole. Heroism as a form of grace. He saved us from our future memories. He saved us from she same we’d assign to ourselves. Saved us from ever knowing the reach of our evils.

Love

Don’t go burying yourself into my skin. Like some secret. Instead. Lay your body on top of mine. Let’s love like layers of sediment. Love like the creation of mountains.

Civil

There is no civil without savage. Both extremes exist on a single line, the mirrored halves of a single body, for even the savage have ceremony and the civil brutal consequence.

It’s easier. If you just vibrate.

America

America is not it’s cities. Cities are everywhere from Manila to Nairobi. America is it’s open road, vast country stitching farmland to mountains, bayou to desert, canyon to delta, and tundra to rainforest—a silent tapestry from one coast to another. Miles of a mimic of the world. And yet, still, even as a citizen for as many years as I’ve breathed, beyond these city walls, I dare not think any of that mine.

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About

I am an author and a Creative Director.

As a full-time creative (VP of Creative Services at Spherical), I spend most days writing in the nooks and crannies of my available time. I wake up at 5:30am just to get in a few hours putting words on paper. I write on the train. I write on planes. I write waiting in lines. I feel I have to write. The reason is simple: representation.

I often tell the story of Ferris Bueller; a kid who decides to skip school and, on charm alone, steals a car, impersonates a cop, drinks underage, tampers with computers, and at every step exposes his best friends to peril, only to go home and fall asleep with his mother to kiss him into sweet dreams. I asked myself if Ferris were Trayvon Martin, how might that story end? I know the answer. So do you. And this is why representation is so important. I aim to contribute more stories into the world that diversely feature regular (but beautiful) lives made extraordinary. Art, I believe, is the only way to accomplish this. All my creative work is inspired by and aims to add to all the great work in the world.

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