“Night Sweats” (2018) by Clifford Prince King.

I see that this era that you are suggesting is ending, as starting with your photo Night Sweats (2018) and that photo Paul Mpagi Sepuya took of you, unbeknownst to him, around the time of your diagnosis. I was helping Paul out in the studio, and I was in my HIV incubation period, that time where you’re not on your medicine yet, and you can feel your body fighting something. I think of this time in my life, and it’s like a hero’s journey—moving to Los Angeles, running around and compiling all the newness and then feeling the slowdown or the turning point where you wonder if this is my life now. And it was from that point, a low point, that I began to slowly build myself up by continuing to work and make myself happy again. That era is like a saga of events, and, not to be cheesy, but I do feel like my photographs act as a visual diary. Looking back, it is like I am watching kids from the Disney Channel grow up. Like Miley Cyrus had her Bangers era, I, too, got a little messy. Your Night Sweats is Miley’s “Wrecking Ball.” Both are intimate snapshots of an artist in transition, dealing with big issues.

Pt.2 Oh my God! [Laughs] When I released Night Sweats, no one around me knew what that was. People thought it was like sex juice or something. But actually, if you search for night sweats, you see it’s an HIV symptom. But also, my work does function in this area of innuendos, right? I don’t really use captions. I hate titles. People make the work make sense for them. I remember there was one person, a straight guy from Haiti, and he was talking to me about how hard it is to sleep in hot climates. And I was like, Oh, OK. But still for me, Night Sweats reminds me of that overall feeling of panic and uncertainty. Like, your body is telling you something, overworking and trying to get rid of something. I feel like HIV was my first notice I had of my body fighting for itself.