Tarell Alvin McCraney was born in Liberty City in Miami, Florida and attended Yale School of Drama, where he received the Cole Porter playwriting award. Between 2008 and 2010 he was international writer in residence for the Royal Shakespeare Company, where he remains an associate artist. His semi-autobiographical 2003 play, In Moonlight Black Boys Look Blue, was adapted for the screen by director Barry Jenkins and renamed Moonlight. In 2016, it won Academy and Golden Globe awards for best picture, and McCraney shares an Oscar for best adapted screenplay with Jenkins. A revival of McCraney’s Olivier award-winning 2007 play, The Brothers Size, is at the Young Vic, London SE1, until 14 February.

1. Performance
Jamar Roberts’s Members Don’t Get Weary (Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater)

A long-time fan of dance, the Ailey Company and Jamar Roberts, I sat at City Center in New York, a week before Christmas, waiting to be lulled into a content state by being in the presence of a few of my favourite things. And then the ballet started, and through the company’s sheer power, both meditative and percussive, I was propelled to the edge of my seat and stayed there obediently. The piece, set to songs by John Coltrane, was a raw reclaiming of the frenetic passion and deep yearning to be heard, seen, and believed. I vibrated throughout and hoped the late Mr Ailey would be happy that I was, once again, under the spell of his brilliant dancers, forever changed.

2. TV
The Crown (Netflix)

I know, I know… I shouldn’t have anything in common with this show, but man, that Claire Foy is an electric wire of strength and fragility at the same time. I thought season two would feel naked without Churchill, but boy, was I wrong and glad of it. As my friends and I keep marvelling, the writers on the show really know how to take a moment that should be frozen by recorded history and look at all the nuances and causality; the show comes alive. Even knowing the history, you squirm, thinking, what happens next? Part of me can’t stop racing to my phone to look up the timeline and compare it with what else was happening in the world at that time.

3. Song
Paradise by Trick Daddy and Trina

“When your whole neighbourhood was HUD housing and section eight” might be a strange beginning for a song about paradise, but that’s only if you aren’t from Liberty City. This song came on the other day as I was heading over the bridge from Miami Beach into downtown Miami, and it made me remember why Christmas doesn’t seem right without a tinselled palm tree. The lyrics evoke a Miami that I sometimes forget to remember; one where going to the beach takes a bit of planning because you will be there all day. For those of us born and made in the county of Dade, the song is reminiscent of days when Miami bass and southern rap reigned in the region. Trick Daddy’s voice is a “welcome back” to a prodigal son like myself and dear Ms Trina, the diamond princess, reminds us with her savvy rhymes that there’s no place like home.

4. Cafe
Crumb on Parchment, Miami

I’m usually embarrassed when the staff here are aware how long I’ve been away. I am there so much when I’m in Miami that when I’m not, they ask: “Have you been OK?” Between [chef and Crumb founder] Michelle Bernstein’s daily baked blessings and the staff’s constant state of keeping vibes chill and food hot, I can never go wrong. I am reluctant to talk more about the spot because while it remains busy, it still is a kind of “close to the vest” jewel and you don’t want to lose its local appeal. Nestled in the the heart of the design district, it is elegant and classy but also a bright and comfy spot to have lunch meetings or, as I did this past December, bring your cousins from out of town to gloat about our great weather (the atrium lighting is glorious) and amazing eats. I especially love the chicken burger, or when in doubt get the special.

5. Sport
Miami Heat/AmericanAirlines Arena

Growing up, I never played basketball. Everyone thought I should but I preferred ballet (for a great physical workout I still take ballet and modern dance class). One day, as an adult, I went to a Miami Heat game. They were playing against the LA Clippers, and I finally knew what Arsenal fans in London and Sox loyalists in Chicago felt: undying love for the home team. I have been hooked ever since. Sometimes, on TV, games can seem static, but when you see it live, those games, even when they’re not high scoring, are intense and feverish and can quickly ensorcell you in the magic (and this was after a certain player, whose name we will not name, decided to leave our team). We have a young squad of players led by our home-town hero, Udonis Haslem, who are in the game. We play hard and I love it. It’s another reason why you will hear me utter “305 [the Miami area code and calling card of loyalty] till I die”.

6. Art
Raelis Rayson Vasquez Estrella

This young artist out of Chicago liked something on my Instagram and the algorithms somehow led me to finding his Instagram page. Something about his use of colour sets the mood of a still life on fire and I love it. I heart-emoji everything he does. I am most taken by his subject matter: brown and black people, mostly women, are at the centre of his work and the direct and unembellished way he paints them is heart-stopping. He’s definitely worth a follow if you want to feel like you are watching art happen on the train ride to work.

7. Social media
Gifs

For some strange reason I am madly in love with tweeting gifs of Yul Brynner as Ramses in Demille’s The Ten Commandments. You’ve never seen a prince so smooth, petulant and sexy. Although Charlton Heston setting all of Israel free is exhilarating, there’s something equally beautiful and graceful in watching Yul Brynner embrace the defeat of Egypt. Luckily, someone keeps making these gifs and I keep using them for all sorts of situations appropriate and not-so-appropriate – from my social anxiety and shyness to my grumbling and bemoaning the weather, and even throwing shade on a fellow tweeter. If you haven’t seen The Ten Commandments, do – but also feel free to Google “Yul Brynner” and gif your life away.