Sharnelle Patterson • January 27, 2026

A story that showed me community can build or break a future

A Lucid Vault Case Study:
"When triangulation disrupted a label signing"


By June 2024, I had just completed my dance training with Polina Glenn and was preparing to announce the winner of the Sock Studios Music Challenge.


That winner was Homeboy Rhymes.


As part of the challenge, Homeboy Rhymes received a professionally produced music video and integration into my creative ecosystem. I committed not only to visual production but to storytelling and distribution. His music became part of my Mindful Core Workout (MTW) Challenge, where I documented my physical transformation using his sound.


Inside the Lucid Vault, two pieces now live from that chapter:


  • Homeboy Rhymes’ official music video
  • My MTW transformation visual, scored by his music
  • (You can also find both of these videos inside the "Finding Lucid Series as well)


But what unfolded behind the scenes revealed something much deeper than collaboration.


Lucid Records Was Never Meant to Be Traditional

Lucid Records was intentionally designed as an anti-hierarchical label model.


Artists were given choice:

  • contract type
  • duration of partnership
  • level of creative and business support
  • independence, hybrid collaboration, or full development


The purpose was not control—it was education, transparency, and agency.

That structure worked well for emerging artists.
But it challenged expectations for those accustomed to traditional power dynamics.


The Emergence of Triangulation

During this period, another artist, Holy Wealth, became a pivotal figure in revealing those tensions.

As a more seasoned gospel artist, he expressed strong opinions about how resources should be allocated and which artists should be prioritized. He advocated for production investments that centered his projects, even when data showed limited audience growth and revenue return.


From a business standpoint, my decision was simple:
If Lucid was going to invest in production, it needed to build artists who had no existing catalog, no distribution, and no revenue stream.


From a psychological standpoint, however, something more subtle began to happen.

Instead of addressing disagreements directly, narratives began to shift sideways.
Instead of collaborative dialogue, there was quiet influence.
Instead of transparent communication, there were subtle repositionings of perception.

In psychoeducation, this is called triangulation— a dynamic where conflict is not addressed directly, but redistributed through third parties to shift power, loyalty, and control.


This is a pattern I break down deeply in Sharny P’s psychoeducational space:
triangulation is not just a family phenomenon.
It appears in organizations, churches, creative industries, and leadership structures.

Lucid Records became a real-world case study.


Quiet Loyalty in the Midst of Distortion

While structural tension slowed momentum across the label, Homeboy Rhymes remained significant in ways that had nothing to do with contracts.


During one of the most dangerous periods of my life—when I was publicly documenting family violence, displacement, and survival—Homeboy Rhymes showed consistent, quiet support.

He amplified my content.
He engaged with my work.
He voted daily for me during the Sierra dance competition—and even contributed paid votes.

In an environment shaped by distance, cultural differences, and uncertainty, his actions spoke louder than speculation.


What This Chapter Revealed

This was the moment Lucid Records clarified its identity.

Not as a traditional label.
Not as a hierarchy.
But as a conscious creative ecosystem where power, resources, and voice are intentionally examined.

The Lucid Vault preserves this chapter not to assign blame, but to document pattern.

Because triangulation doesn’t only happen in families.
It happens wherever vision threatens established power.

And Lucid Serenity was never meant to replicate old systems—
it was meant to expose them.