In conversation with the women he regards as his most trusted friends and greatest inspirations, Kevin Morosky, film auteur and Chief Creative Officer, puts intimacy into words – delving deep into his life experiences and centring on the Black women who shaped his identity. This book brings authenticity to the function and could be described as the manual of self-empowerment.
Kevin walks us through his traumas and successes, nourishing our minds and enriching our souls. Consisting of 24 chapters, the book looks to examine topics like Boundaries, Fronting, Principles, and Fun. Kevin talks to Black women from all walks of life ranging from his wholesome mum to author Candice Brathwaite – covering a lot of ground in only 319 orange pages.
Filled with gratitude, it is clear when reading how thankful and proud Kevin is of these wonderful women. Kevin’s welcoming and kind interactions with them only seem to amplify the wisdom they all possess, and by the time you are finished reading, you feel as though you have gained new pathways in your brain.  To paraphrase what Kevin goes on to talk about, our brains have an elasticity, and it is through characteristics like Discipline and Integrity that we form new perspectives on life. 
Self-development is done through self-care, but it is through the connections we make that secure who we are. Introducing Kevin Morosky.
Hello Kevin, lovely to talk with you about your new book Black Women Always!
Thank you.
I learnt so much from reading this collection of conversations and insights and I am so grateful for that, thank you! But what have you learnt from writing this book?
There are so many more conversations to be had and I won’t be the one to have them all, that is to say, I felt a humongous self-imposed weight about getting everything into this one book and I’ve learned that the responsibility is not mine entirely.
How did you conduct these conversations? Were there any mediums in particular that you found more personal and effective than others, or were they all insightful and emotional in their own way?
I think the only method was taking time to relax into the conversation first - and then once we had both forgotten our words were being recorded - that’s when I started interviewing.
When ushering creativity, or inspiration to come out and play, I’m gentle and I let it hit and show itself in its own time and that’s what I did with the interviews.
I think all of the conversations sit in a place that makes them incomparable to each other - which is important as one of the main philosophies of the book is that no one Black women is a monolith. So I don’t have a favourite or one conversation that moved me more than the other, they are all doing their own thing.
You say in (the chapter) Intuition that the purpose of this book is to connect with people on an emotional level. How do you do this in your daily life? Even thinking about your work with Pocc and briefly discussing this.
I think for me, it’s about following what feels good. More time I think people get confused and follow a practice that doesn’t involve hard work, or discipline because of the effort. Effort can mean real hard work and so [some] look at [it] as the opposite of easy and feeling good.
I don’t think that’s true or at least it’s not for me.
I think anything, or any project that is worthy and of a standard, comes from effort. Effort or representation of effort can take many forms, such as attention to detail is a form of effort, simplification is a form of effort. All of that to say, my day-to-day, including the running of Pocc always starts from me making the effort to do the best I can do.
Inevitably that means my work is always going to be emotional. Honest. Real. I’m never faking my intent, I’m just playing my part.
The format of the book is very unusual and a pleasure to read. I would even call Black Women Always poetry because it is so versatile and shapely. Why did you choose to add colour instead of the text being black and white, and did your dyslexia have any role in the decision to create a conversational book rather than an autobiographical, prose-esque book? How has your impairment been beneficial to your work and writing style?
At the end of the book, I talk about the meaning of the colour orange and that’s really the only reasoning for it. My dyslexia is a gift, although frustrating at times, it means I play with words without rules, I don’t see a difference between poetry and scriptwriting, you know. I mean I don’t have a choice - I get there are rules for grammar and all of that, but also this is the way I communicate and whether I fold into grammar and English lit shaped boxes, my essence will spill out of those prisons one way or another - so I might as well do what I want.
What is a mother to you? I recently did a course on queer mothers and one of them (of course) was Audre Lorde. Have there been any mothers, except from your actual mum, that have influenced your style of work? You talk about your teacher Ms Harvey in your first conversational chapter, would you consider her a mother by your own definition?
I remember growing up, and it became a thing where people would say Your Mum and that only happened twice with me because it didn’t end well for those boys. I luckily have always had a mother and known my mother. I’ve never tempted superstition by naming a second one. That’s not to say I don’t have great relationships with some of my friends’ parents. But my Mum is Mum I don’t know about any others, and no Ms Harvey was just a decent human being, and rightly so.
Did you get signs that writing this book was in your future? Did you ever experience déjà vu when encountering someone who became part of the process and production of the book? You say “hindsight can be a dangerous thing”, but isn’t your past an important tool for the creation of your future?
Just back to my philosophy or how I like to look at time - I feel like everything is happening all at once, if that indeed is the case the action of looking back for anything other than storytelling seems redundant and dangerous. If you're looking back and not living in the now, if you're looking back while ignoring you've made it - I think you're inviting the universe to think you don’t like or want what you’ve accomplished. I wouldn’t say I had signs, I just thought it was an obvious thing for me to make and write such a book because of my story, because of my skill set and most importantly my lived experience.
I’m at peace with these things, so what I should want and need to do next always presents itself with ease.
In Chapter 3 Boundaries, you and Julie Adenuga discuss pruning; the idea that you should remove the “dead bits” of your life to allow for growth. What or who, during your creative journey, has been the hardest let go? Do you have any regrets?
I’m a Virgo, so pruning is my favourite thing to do. I have no regrets. What will be will be, anything that didn’t pan out has always been for a reason, and what I apparently lost I’ve always found better. Always. So, I trust in the track record the universe has with balance.
You make some pop-culture references throughout the book such as nods to Sex and the City, or Ice Spice’s song Munch (Feelin’ U). If you were to use one pop-culture moment to define and describe Black Women Always, what would it be and why?
I don’t think there is one, which is why sometimes, more time[s], my work goes over people’s heads, people only start to get what it is I was and am doing later on.
It’s always been this way.
I used to hate that, but if I am here to make work that is emotional, honest, and needed, then my point of view must be one that understands the landscape and the language of society, love, and culture as it is now, but also to treat the now as history.
So, I am in the moment not predicting but mapping out the direction culture will end up.
Ok- I guess the pop culture ref for this book is that age-old question - Are we there yet?