Black Excellence Beach Weekend 2026

I’m sitting in my room at the resort in Cartagena, Colombia. Out the window, birds float effortlessly across the sky. The flags on the golf course wave like soft signals from a freer world. The wind stirs the water, and I can’t help but be still. To breathe. To watch. To listen. And in this moment of stillness, I’m overwhelmed with gratitude. I remember something I hadn’t said out loud in a while:

I love this gift.
The gift of capturing people.
The gift of seeing what others don’t always see.
The gift of telling stories through a lens that doesn’t just frame — it feels.

I don’t claim that what I do is rocket science, but what I do know is this: I’ve been given favor over my gift and I can't be duplicated. The emotion, the joy, the energy I bring out of people — that's the real sauce. That’s the part you can’t teach.

This week at Black Excellence Beach Weekend 2025 was more than a gig — it was a mirror, and it showed me some things I had buried.

For the last few years, I’ve been wrestling with doubt. The kind of quiet, creeping doubt that doesn’t scream — it whispers.

You’re not relevant anymore.
Your style is outdated.
Look at what they’re doing — why aren’t you there?

I watched others create content that seemed to move the masses while I stood still. And slowly, without realizing it, I began to question not just my output — but my identity. I started to shrink. And in shrinking, I forgot the essence of who I am.

And honestly, when I first arrived… the imposter syndrome was real. I felt it heavy. I was nervous. I was asked to create reels and short-form content to hype people up — and I almost folded. That’s not how I usually create. I’m a slow-burn storyteller. I take my time, I build moments.

But some people close to me whispered back:

“Just do what you’ve always done — be you."

And something shifted.

I decided to stop dodging growth and meet it head-on. I stayed true to my eye. I leaned into the moment. I adjusted without abandoning myself. And what happened? People responded. Not just to the work — but to the feeling in the work. For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t just producing. I was learning again. Stretching again. Becoming again.

Video was powerful. But photography… oh man. Photography reminded me of the stillness. The way a single image can carry joy, elegance, pride — frozen in time forever. No scrolling. No algorithm. Just being seen.

Now the trip is over. It’s Monday. No more itinerary. No more client work. Just this stillness. This bittersweet quiet that always comes after something beautiful ends. It’s kind of like waking up from a dream you didn’t want to leave. For a few days, we unplugged from the world and tapped into each other. We danced. We healed. We laughed. We found joy — not the kind you post, but the kind that sits deep in your chest.

As a photographer and videographer, I’ve learned that my real job is to pay attention to people. I watched as folks arrived — some reconnecting, others meeting for the very first time. There’s always a little hesitation at the beginning, that natural distance people carry in unfamiliar spaces. But slowly, something shifts. Walls come down. Real personalities start to shine through.

That moment — when someone feels safe enough to just be themselves — that’s the part I love most. Because when it happens, I get to do what I do best: Capture people as they are, not just how they look. And that, to me, is the most meaningful part of the work.

So whether you came to party, rest, swim, or soul-search… I hope Black Excellence Beach Weekend gave you what you needed. Because I promise you —It gave me everything I needed. It reminded me of who I am. It reaffirmed my gift. And it reconnected me to my why.

Carl, my brother.
Ashley, my sister.
Your beautiful sons — your legacy.
I love y’all. Thank you for trusting me with this.

To DJ Climate, DJ Homicide, DJ Van Go —
Y’all brought rhythm to our rhythm. Thank you.

To the tribe — the ones who showed up with heart, not just outfits —
You made this more than a trip. You made it a return to self.

And to every Black creative reading this —
Your gift is still yours, even when it feels quiet.
Even when you’re doubting. Even when no one’s clapping.
Do not disappear on yourself.

Before I close, something is sitting heavy on my heart.

For five days, the Dreams Karibana Cartagena Golf & Spa Resort was alive — not just with music or movement, but with Black joy. Black presence. Black love in its rawest and most vibrant form.

Black people from across the country filled every hallway, pool, party, and lounge.We filled this place with soul. With laughter that echoed past the lobby. With conversations that mattered. With looks, style, energy — all of it.

And now, I sit here and watch as the resort slowly returns to what it was before. Polished. Quiet. A little too still.

It’s like the culture left on those buses too — headed back to homes, to meetings, to regular life. Even the staff seem to feel it. Their smiles aren't as wide. Their pace has shifted.

It’s like BEBW didn’t just bring people here — it brought spirit. We didn’t just take up space. We transformed it. For a moment, this resort wasn’t just luxury. It was ours. And that — that — is the kind of imprint no one can erase.

See you in 2026.

T.Moore™

Click here to enjoy the photos from Black Excellence Beach Weekend 2025