Assata Akil’s Journey to Authentic Self-Expression in Art and Writing
Assata Akil is a storyteller, artist and author of four books, starting with the spicy novel Ear Candy, followed by Petty Cache, and Ear Candy: The Fetish Edition. A third installment of Ear Candy is due this year.
Her fourth book, IFE Unveiled, is part of a multidisciplinary art project combining literature and visual art to explore themes of identity, strength, and femininity. The project is showcased at Soho Galleries, where, as Queen Assata, she is a resident artist. The gallery’s owner, Adele Aguirre, refers to Soho’s loft as “Assata’s Space.”
Assata was born in Akron, Ohio. Her mother’s entrepreneurial work led to frequent relocations during her childhood. Today, she lives in Mérida and is, by all accounts, thriving as a creative force.
Assata Akil: Obsessed about the IFE series
We asked Assata some questions about her career, philosophy and perspective. Here’s what she had to tell us:
Q: I’m obsessed with the IFE series. Tell us about the IFE series, its origins, and where you’ve gone with it.
A: The IFE series was born out of a period of resilience and, in turn, wanting to express hidden strength. I wanted to create a strong woman character doing non-stereotypical things — wearing a beautiful dress, crown, and heels—because, of course, you need heels to go with a ball gown. Her dresses are more than clothes—they are a part of her personality and self-expression. IFE acknowledges the strength behind the dress.
IFE embodies strength and femininity. She embraces both her feminine and masculine sides, constantly balancing her divine feminine and warrior energy.
Assata Akil reads from “Ear Candy” at a MEL book fair in Mérida. Photo: Courtesy
Assata Akil’s fans found her at the Mérida English Library during a book fair. Photo: Courtesy
I also wanted her to be strong with a partner who is stronger — The Protect-Her. His silent strength is her protection from rainy days. He is always painted holding an umbrella over IFE—not to shelter her from the world, but to shield her when she needs a moment of rest. Even though she is clearly capable on her own, she also understands the balance in relationships. Strength doesn’t mean she has to be alone; it means she can stand tall with someone who respects and matches her energy.
IFE is more than a painting—she is a story. She is a symbol. She is motivation and inspiration. I started with one concept, and IFE’s legacy began to unfold. She continues to guide the connections in her story. Each painting captures a piece of her story, weaving into the next. The message LOVE ME can be found in all of the paintings and is done by my youngest daughter Demi.
People ask if IFE is me. Initially, I said no because I thought it wasn’t, but as I look back, I can definitely see myself in her. The Mystic Queen of Ember is one of my favorites. It is a very deep painting that connects three paintings in the series: Irony, Sacrificial Queen, and The Mystic Queen of Ember.
After being sacrificed (Sacrificial Queen) by the very thing she carried to a situation (Irony), IFE returns—or is resurrected — as The Mystic Queen of Ember. Mysterious and guarded—hence the beaded curtain. But IFE’s story is not a victim story — that is why the curtains are not permanently closed. They are able to open up and reveal her when she chooses. Her fire has shifted—from a visible, roaring flame to a steady ember that burns internally, unseen by many but alive and enduring.
As the paintings began to sell, I realized her journey wasn’t meant to be captured in just one image or one moment. I decided to create a book that would connect all of her stories—the paintings, the energy, and the evolving legacy she continues to guide.
Common feedback that I receive about IFE is that people can feel her energy. I know the reason is because the energy is real. I know the women expressed through IFE—not only women in my family, but strong women and men I’ve had the chance to bond with throughout my travels, both up close and from afar.
I have played softball with small-in-stature but powerful Yucatán women and saw their strength firsthand, reflected in the painting Velocity. My mom and great-aunt both cut their own grass with pride, which inspired the painting Rose’s Inspiration. I know beautiful women bodybuilders (Weight of the Worlds) and I know women who work on and inspect cars (Herchanic). IFE carries the spirit of all of them. Her energy is real because their energy is real.
Q: Your work Petty Cache has been described as a collection where you store thoughts that aren’t often expressed aloud. What inspired you to create this candid writing style, and how does it reflect your artistic philosophy as both a poet and visual artist?
A: I’ve been a visual artist and storyteller my whole life. As far as expressing it, I did not find my space until adulthood.
After attending a predominantly white school throughout elementary school, in fourth grade, I had a wise and commanding brown-skinned teacher, Dr. Michael Carter. One day, he lent me a poetry book that he wrote. Most of the poems were positive and uplifting, but there was one piece titled Ain’t That a Bitch?—and it hit me like nothing else. It was the first time I saw poetry laced with passion, frustration, and fire. It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t polished. It was real. That moment stayed with me. It showed me that poetry could hold rage, humor, truth, and still be art.
I had a mixed upbringing. I went to predominantly white schools in some years, and predominantly brown-skinned schools in others—specifically in fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth, and again in 11th grade. Socially, I moved between both worlds. I didn’t see myself fully reflected in art class — until my eleventh-grade year, when I moved in with my grandmother to a different state and transferred to a new school. I had cut off all my hair before ninth grade, and though I loved it, it was a very different look at the time. Still, I felt bold, fresh, and fully myself. In my advanced art class, a classmate asked to use me as the subject for a painting he was submitting to a contest. He created a portrait of me alongside two African women from a magazine, and he won. When he gifted me the painting, it was the first time I truly saw myself represented in art, not as an idea or a stereotype, but as something powerful and beautiful.
I had always walked to the beat of my own drum. I never needed to fit in—I’ve always claimed my own space, even if it meant creating it from scratch. But the painting made me into art.
When I first considered publishing, I thought my debut would be a poetry collection or a fiction novel inspired by my real life. But deep down, I wasn’t ready to be that vulnerable. Not yet. And as poetry slams became more popular, I found myself retreating. I admired the performance, but I didn’t see myself in it. I also didn’t see myself as soft-spoken or buttoned-up like the poets I’d read growing up. My background was more raw, more layered, and I didn’t feel like I fit the mold. So I stopped calling myself a poet and began calling myself what I truly am: A storyteller… that sometimes rhymes.
Ironically, when I finally decided to publish, it wasn’t poetry or fiction that came first—it was erotica. Ear Candy was born out of surprise more than strategy. I’ve always enjoyed reading sensual stories, but never imagined writing them. Then suddenly, these short, naughty narratives arrived fully formed, as if they’d been waiting their turn. And I gave them space.
Still, I didn’t feel complete. I worried I’d boxed myself into one genre too soon, that people would only see the erotic and not everything else I had to say. That’s where Petty Cache came in.
It’s my release valve, my archive of unfiltered thoughts scribbled across napkins and notebooks over the years. It’s honest, messy, sometimes sharp—never curated for perfection. I created Petty Cache as a way to reclaim my voice, not as a performer, but as a person.
Petty Cache is proof that my voice doesn’t need to fit a form to be heard. As both a visual artist and storyteller, it’s vital for me to tell the truth, whether in words or on canvas. I’m lucky I get to do both.
Q: How has your experience living in Mexico and your travels around the world shaped your artistic perspective? Do you find Mérida a good place to be a productive, creative artist?
A: I love to explore and immerse myself in different cultures—travel is everything to me. It has been my school, always gifting me something new—whether a new experience, a new perspective, or a new story to add to my repertoire. I’ve always seen travel as a form of time travel. It doesn’t just expand your perspective; it expands your reality.
Travel has always had a deep impact on me. I moved around a lot growing up, which exposed me to new environments from a young age. I always had a sketchbook with me—it was my journal and my stability.
Later, becoming both an international and domestic flight attendant completely transformed my outlook — not just as a person, but as an artist. Culture is art. Immersing myself in different cultures opened my view of not only art, but the world, people, and food. I started noticing the way colors are used differently in different regions, how people paint birds, flowers, and even homes — not just in solid colors, but with expression, storytelling, and pride. That stayed with me.
My painting Red Light Bride was directly inspired by a trip to Amsterdam, where I visited the Museum of Prostitution in the Red Light District. I had the chance to sit in the window and experience what it felt like to be watched and judged — and that vulnerability made its way into IFE.
Living in Mérida, I believe I’m standing in a portal for art. Whether it’s the meteor that hit, the sunsets, or the culture, there’s something magical here. Mérida’s support for the arts, through events like Noche Blanca and Mérida Fest, allows artists to shine and cultivates an environment where creativity can thrive. And when you live in paradise, it’s hard not to be creative.
Q: In one of your articles for MID CityBeat, you reference Tupac Shakur’s poem “A Rose That Grew From Concrete” when discussing relationships. How has poetry from other artists influenced your own creative work, and what role does poetry play in how you understand the world?
A: Poetry has always been a part of my life. I love poetry because it’s the song to life and the melody of thought. Poetry has a beautiful way of saying ugly things, of putting magic behind ordinary words.
The poem A Rose That Grew from Concrete by Tupac Shakur is one of my favorites. I resonate with how he used the Rose to express the story of resilience. In my painting Queen of Hard Knocks, you’ll find a rose growing out of the rocks as IFE drills on — a visual echo of that feeling.
In school, my favorite subject was literature, where I could write freely and creatively, including poetry. I love the creativity behind the expression of words. As a preteen, I remember my mom listening to Gil Scott-Heron, and though I didn’t understand what he was talking about, I loved his raw delivery. Maya Angelou, The Last Poets, Khalil Gibran, and Ayi Kwei Armah are just a few who inspire my work. I love early hip hop, which began as poetry. It taught me that poetry didn’t have to be soft or delicate — it could be raw, angry, questioning, honest.
Poetry has always been a place where I could put the things that didn’t fit anywhere else. It continues to weave itself into my writing, my paintings, and my way of seeing the world.
Instagram: @loveandpuravida; web: www.houseofassataunbound.com
Lee Steele is the founding director of Mérida-based Roof Cat Media S de RL de CV and has published Yucatán Magazine and other titles since 2012. He was Hearst Connecticut’s Sunday Magazine creative director and worked in New York City for various magazine publishers, including Condé Nast and Primedia, for over 20 years.
