When I picked him up at the airport, all I knew about him was that he was an artist and he was going to be a VIP for the Urban Arts Festival this fall.
We locked eyes as he came down the escalator. “Mr. Stewart?” I said, holding a sign with his name. He gave a low, deep laugh that reminded me of James Earl Jones. “Yeah, but call me Charlie.”
He gave that baritone laugh again. “I’m a rapper. But really I was born to do graffiti. So I like to say I’m a graffiti artist who happens to rap.