DCP - Blog

SPOTLIGHT ON MHEGAN LEE

7/1/2018

Stunning black beauty, Mhegan Lee has set her eyes on becoming a well rounded actress in stage and screen while balancing work, earning a Masters in Business and maintaining a quality way of life. Demedrius Charles Productions has ten poignant questions for the budding actress and model.

DCP:
Who are YOU?
ML:
I’m a classically trained actress pursing a degree in business, an influencer, and entrepreneur woman.
DCP:
If you were given a choice as an artist, Film, Music or Modeling, which one would you choose and why
ML
One of the greatest parts. about being an artist touches on all aspect of film, model, and the music industry. So I would continue acting as an artist which will allow me to branch out to all parts of the entertainment industry.
DCP
How are you pursuing that dream
ML
Pursing acting has become a part of my lifestyle like working, eating, sleeping, and breathing air. I must always be ready as a business woman for an opportunity for my career and as an artist to be able to deliver my work.
DCP
It's a hustle in the entertainment industry Mhegan, what will make you stand out
ML
I believe the fact that, I’m first generation out my family to be pursing my dream career goals. I have a love for the arts that keeps the fire burning inside from within my soul to keep going and never give up.

DCP
Who inspires you as a person?
ML
I believe brave acts throughout life obstacles and experiences, towards bettering yourself and others inspires me.
DCP
Who inspires you as an artist
ML
Denzel Washington, Angela Bassett, & Johnny Depp.
DCP
Do you believe in love
ML
I believe in true love. Love that’s so passionate, wild, respected, appreciated, cherished, faithful and valued, and customary between one another.
DCP
What do you believe are your best features
ML
My facial expressions, gestures, and original physical appearances on camera. My funny personality and warm touch of happiness I unconsciously share to myself and the world.
DCP
Any advice for THE ARTSIT
ML
Rule number 1: Nobody owes you anything yet don’t give up fighting for what you deserve, just prove it to yourself that you will and you can.

https://mheganlee.com
https://www.instagram.com/mheganlee/

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The Awakening ... I have a voice Part 2

5/26/2018

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Written by: Keturah Charles
For: Demedrius Charles Productions
All rights reserved

The piercing sound of the alarm clock woke me up. I gingerly reached for it, and as I squinted to see the time, I realized that sleep had indeed announced its presence for it was now 8:08 in the morning and I was late for an appointment. I quickly dashed out of bed, jumped into the shower, got dressed and was out the door half an hour later. As I drove down the highway taking in the lush scenery I couldn’t help but smile as the memory of my husband re-entered my mind, because to be quite honest, it wasn’t always bad, especially the first two years.
Ah! My husband! He was one of them alright…. a man in uniform. I had always been attracted to them. I don’t know what it was, but there was something about the uniform that just did something to me. I remember vividly how he was dressed; stark white shirt starched to perfection, the silver buttons that glistened in the sun, a pair of neatly pressed black pants, with white piping on the sides and to top it off, a black cap pulled low just enough to partially shield his eyes.
He strode over to me and asked me my name to which I reluctantly answered. He introduced himself as Derrick and immediately started a conversation. I gradually warmed up to him because he gave off this air about him that made me all warm and fuzzy inside; not to mention the fact that I was already charmed by the uniform. His smile was so captivating, revealing, every time he smiled, a set of pearly white teeth and that spaced tooth that literally sent shivers titillating down my spine.
The sudden honking of a car horn behind me stirred me from my reverie and I realized that I was holding up traffic for the light had turned green. I quickly sped away and took the next corner on the right which would take me to my destination. I drove up the driveway, parked in the closest spot to the building and got out of the car.
The room had a faint smell of pine sol. The walls were freshly painted in yellow and white, colors specifically chosen to lift the most sagging spirits. The grand mahogany desk was parked right in the middle of the room, with shelves of books lining the back wall from ceiling to floor. On the left wall was a huge bay window that overlooked the scenic waterfront. She was seated at her desk intently poring over an article of some sort.

She must have been deeply engrossed in whatever she was reading because she was seemingly startled by the knock on the door. Surprise turned into a broad smile as she stood up to welcome me in.
Joanie and I had quickly become good friends because of her warm and easy-going personality and over the years our friendship deepened. She made it so easy to open up about my deepest feelings, a trait that did not come that easily to me. I stood at the door and stared at her with a pained expression on my face.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, concern carved all over her face. She quickly walked over to the door, took me by the hand and led me to the couch under the window: a couch she had spent a fortune on.
“It’s Corinthian leather for goodness sake, plus it’s cherry red,” she had remarked jokingly.
I sat on the plush leather and nervously wrung my hands together. Joanie sat next to me and held my hand in hers. “What is it?” she asked softly. My eyes immediately clouded and as I struggled to maintain composure I replied in a barely audible voice, “I was at that place again!” She gently squeezed my hand then hugged me tightly.
“So tell me what happened,” she continued.
“Same scenario,” I answered.
“Can you tell me what happened when you finally came to?” she gently pressed on.
And with a heavy heart, I proceeded to unravel my heart one more time. When I finally became conscious again it took me a while to realize that I was on the bedroom floor. My body felt like lead and my head throbbed to the drumming of tin soldiers. The house was deathly quiet. After lying there for a few seconds, I crawled my way to the door and with trembling fingers, I reached for the knob and cautiously turned it. The hallway was empty and the light turned down low and, still feeling wobbly, I inched my way down the hall. As I was about to enter the living room I caught a glimpse of him standing on the balcony. I was about to make my way into the kitchen when suddenly he turned and saw me.
At that point I mustered up all my remaining strength and I made a mad dash towards the kitchen and grabbed a knife. I pointed the knife at my stomach, and with a look of wild terror in my eyes, I screamed at him, “If you touch me one more time, I swear I will kill myself, right here, right now!

A glimmer of light to guide you through those dark moments.

4 Comments

SPOTLIGHT ON

5/17/2018

12 Comments

With a name like Art Jones, it seems like this New Jersey born, New York based ARTIST is destined for stardom. DCP sits down with the up and coming artist and gets personal.

Ten Poignant questions.
DCP
Who are YOU?
Art
I am an Artist; I sing, write, model, act and create. I’m a very motivated person who embraces all positive spectrums of the Arts.
DCP
Art Jones, the name, very stage appropriate, given or altered?
Art
My actual name. Is Arthur, Art for short.. i was raised in a single parent household. I did'nt like my name at first because It was my father's middle name. I did not want to be associated with him and was embarrassed by it. But as I got older and more spiritual, I realized that the name actually embodies who I have grown to be. I started to look at it as more of a purposed name instead of an embarrassment.
DCP
What was it like growing up in a single parent house hold?
ART
Challenging but I had a great Mom who found ethical ways for me to do anything I was interested in growing up. I’ve played tennis, I am a martial artist, i boxed, sang, and played all brass instruments eventually specializing in the trumpet throughout high school and my early 20s. I eventually got more involved in entertainment, focusing on singing, modeling and now acting. So ART JONES transitioned from a negative into a positive. God knew what he was doing.
DCP
If you were given a choice as an artist, Film, Music or Modeling, which one would you choose and why?
Art
As an artist I would do it all. Music is my first love. It was a way to escape and still is. Film and Modeling are also ways to become someone else but I would still do it all.
DCP
How are you pursuing that dream?
Art
It’s been a long journey but it’s worth it. I’ve been writing and hoping to finish with my single soon. I stopped recording for a while due to a disappointment in my younger years but now is the right time.

DCP
It's a hustle in the entertainment industry Art, what will make YOU stand out?
Art
I’m no better than anyone else but so I remain true to who I am. I don’t apologize for being ME. It took a lot to become who I am today and I’m proud of it. So if I stand out, it’s because people see the real me and not me portraying to be anything other than that.
DCP
Who inspires you as a person?
Art
I draw inspiration from the world. A good deed being done by a stranger, or Obama becoming president. However, If I had to choose a person it would be my mother. She embodies strength and getting through.
DCP
Who inspires you as an artist?
Art
I’m really into a lot of artist for different reasons. Definitely old school like Donnie H, and Stevie W for their creative soulful sounds to name a couple. I’m in love with the 90’s music. A lot of my inspiration comes from that era.
DCP
Do you believe in love?
ART
lol ... I do, whether or not I believe it’s for me is still up for debate but I do believe in it and believe it’s a beautiful thing.
DCP
What do you think are your best features?
Art
As a creation of God I’ve grown to love all of me and continue to work on myself. But if i had to choose a feature I would say my eyes.
DCP
Any advice for The ARTSIT?
Art
Just to never give up. Stay true to what you love. Fall in love with yourself and your art. Embrace it and stay positive thinking. Every no does not mean it’s over. Just means not yet or something greater is coming.

Photo Credit @photochase

12 Comments

IN FRONT AND BEHIND THE LENS

5/5/2018

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When a picture is not just a picture and the model is not just another pretty face but when that vision is so captivating it draws your attention to every detailing by the artist behind and in front of the lens.
Model Chal Harn definitely captured the attention of Demedrius Charles productions with his variation of what I call artistic pieces. Kudos to this Philippine model and graphic designer Chal Harn

All photos and videos on this blog are retrieved from various sources or found while using the Internet which is considered public domain. If you feel that any photo posted is in direct violation of your copyright or creative liberties, please email me at deus600@yahoo.com immediately with details of the materials and I will remove it promptly.

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Confessions of a Mistress Pt 2

5/2/2018

38 Comments

Tick Tock, Tick Tock, Tick Tock ..... and let the drama continue

Written by
Mimi St.Clair
All rights reserved by
Demedrius Charles Productions

Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock. That’s the sound my clock makes. I glance over at it. Perched righteously on the mantle, glaring back at me. Daring me. Willing me. Encouraging me? Call him, it whispers. I stick my finger in my ear. Huh, I must be hearing things. But the ever irritating clock was correct. Sigh. I should give him a ring.
Its been three weeks since I last saw My Politician. Three weeks is not unusual. It was becoming more of a scheduled appointment really. More of a nuisance actually. Being a Politician’s Mistress came with sacrifices. Sacrifices I was prepared to make, have been making. It made unconventional sense when u look at it. He’s married, thankfully no kids. Or else my moral compass would be spinning out of control. Its already somewhat broken. He travels a lot and his office hours are insane. So once a month in the comfort of my arms, is like breathing air after a brush with drowning.

Darn clock. Playing tireless and tuneless beats on my varying emotions. Three weeks, yes. But its been one week since I heard from him. Heard being the operative word here. It was uncharacteristic, even for him. I was beginning to wonder if I had been replaced. Was the Mrs. reinstated in the private quarters? I laugh out loud. Political jargon, now? Reinstated, my heinie. Ok, I admit, she’s a looker, smoldering at times. Struts with such indignant confidence. After all, why shouldn’t she? The wife of a Politician draws glares from their Constituents. Quite simply put, she is a beneficial prop. Mrs. What’s-her-face, also known as Mrs. Croatia DuJour, is by all means, lackluster.
You may think I’m saying this because I’m itching the green eyed monster. But the proof is in his eyes. Those piercing, brown peepers that twinkle when he grins. I’ve seen the way he looks at her. His stare devoid of emotion. Unimpressed by her Stepford Wife persona. Mrs. What’s-her- face was for the grand standing, ongoing, political circus.
I turn away from the clock, concluding I had two options. Laze around this immaculate, well decorated, picket fenced prison, he has so generously paid for, or, ring him. So he can inform me that he’s swamped at the office. His numbers are soaring, the polls are great. He’ll swing by as soon as time permits. Those words. As true and relatable as it will sound, still so not what I want to hear.
Decision made. I flop onto fluffed up pillows, reach for my phone and scroll through until my fingers land on his digits. I stretch my legs out and admire well manicured toes, contrasting against a deep, rich, black sofa. I smile. Black is such an inconvenient color. The evidence of a satisfying tryst, so plainly on display.
I pause and close my eyes, for just a minute. Four nights ago came vividly to mind. I purse my lips as I replay empty conversations but meaningful embraces. Cornily smiling, with eyes still tightly shut, my free hand dances along my bare stomach, tangoing its way into loose ringlets. Twirling strands around my forefinger. Inching ever so slowly, easing my way through black, manicured lawn. I reach my top and senses its urgency. Begging to be caressed. I feel the pulsation. My eyes flutter open. I need to make my call. No more ifs, buts or maybes.

38 Comments

Yamon Wear by Peter Giscombe

4/27/2018

1 Comment

Summer is around the corner and the ladies OF YAMON WEAR, Shanice, Ttoyz and Lorena are bringing the sizzle to Demedrius Charles Production.

An island boy with a big dream, Peter Giscombe is determine to make a name for himself in the Swimwear and Lingerie industry. Giscombe, who is from the tropical isle of Jamaica, has been on the fashion scene in retail but had this burning desire to create and boy, did he.
DCP:
Peter, first of all, congratulations on a sexy swim and lingerie collection. DCP would like to know, what was the inspiration behind your 2017 collection?
PG:
I was inspired by life and the fact that God gave me this talent that I am determine to use.
DCP
What are we to expect in 2018?
PG
A mind blowing line that will put Yamon Wear on the map. And to bring to life my second passion, music which I am in the process of producing right now
DCP
How would you describe your 2017 collection
PG
Sexy, provocative and affordable
DCP
How can our readers purchase your pieces
PG
https://www.yamonwearnyc.com

The very best to you on your endeavors and thank you for talking to DCP

Photographers
Hank Pegeron
Curtis Taitt

1 Comment

The Awakening ... I have a voice Pt 1

4/18/2018

16 Comments

Keturah.C brings to Demedrius Charles Productions the survival of a courageous woman after years of Domestic violence from a man who was suppose to love her.

Written by
Keturah.C
For Demedrius Charles Productions

He grabs her hair and shoves her onto the bed. He descends on her with a fury she has never experienced before, his fists pounding her body into submission. She struggles to break free but he pins her down with his legs. She can hear the cries of anguish escaping from her as he drives his point home with every lethal blow. She can taste the blood oozing from her bloodied mouth. Her body feels numb. She is dazed and in complete shock.
He picks up her now tattered body and flings her onto the floor like a rag doll tossed aside by an angry toddler. She is doubled over shrieking with pain. She tries to scramble her way to the door but he sees her and lunges at her. He revisits her with a renewed anger, only this time, his boots making acquaintance with her head. The room starts to spin as around her gets darker and darker. She hears the fading screams, a faint banging on the door and then…. Silence!
I awoke in bed with a sudden jolt, my breathing heavy and rapid, my p j’ s drenched with sweat. The room was pitch dark and felt cold and clammy. I struggled to recollect my thoughts but everything seemed hazy. Was it a dream? I clutched my now throbbing head and tried to make sense of what had happened. Then slowly, painfully everything began to take shape and then it struck me like a bolt of lightning cutting through the still dark night. The tears came fast and furious flowing freely down my face. If only it had been a dream I could have lived with that.

But here I was once again reliving the painful memory of my first physical encounter with my husband. A memory etched in my mind for years. A memory that has kept me shackled and forbids me from embracing happiness. Yes, that night, and the first of many more to come, I had been beaten mercilessly by the man whom I vowed to love, honor and obey. My husband, whom I once admired and held in such high regard.
I curled up on my bed in a fetal position, the tears coming uncontrollably at this point, my pillow quickly becoming a sponge that soaked up my tears. I wanted to scream, I wanted to escape from my prison of mental anguish. How and when did my life get like this? Where did I go wrong?
My mind wandered back to the good old days when we first met. Life was new and exciting then. At a tender age of 23, I was in my final year at the university pursuing a degree in a teaching profession - my passion. I had a lot of hopes and dreams back then, my whole life lay ahead of me – the possibilities endless. I was young, naïve and susceptible. That day we met, I had just come from visiting with a friend, and was walking leisurely down the road. There was not a cloud in the sky, giving the sun home against a brilliant canvas of cerulean blue. As I walked on, a white Toyota Camry pulled alongside me. The window was up so I couldn’t immediately see who was on the inside. I was about to continue walking when suddenly the car door swung open and out came one of the most attractive men I had ever come across. He called out to me with a voice of authority which slightly irritated me, but my annoyance was quickly replaced by a faint fluttering in my stomach when a coy smile played around the edges of his lips revealing a very pronounced spaced tooth. I peered at him with a questioning look on my face all sorts of questions swirling around in my head. He motioned for me to come closer but I stood grounded. My heart was racing not out of fear but because of the strong pull I felt towards him simply because…. he was one of them.

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The Incredible Mr. Oscar Restrepo

4/15/2018

3 Comments

Over the years, I have entrusted many graphic artists with assisting me with bringing my vision across, whether it be my movie posters, flyers or my website but none has quite captured or lent to that vision as the talented Mr. Oscar Restrepo.

On April 6th, 2018, Mr. Restrepo made yet another stride in his artistic journey by being one of many photographers showcased at the prestigious Salmagundi Art Gallery; an institution which has been in existence for one hundred years.

Demedrius Charles Productions would like to extend a hearty congratulations to the talented Oscar Restrepo and his accomplishments.

3 Comments

Confessions of a Mistress

3/22/2018

42 Comments

Written by
Mimi St.Clair
All rights reserved by
Demedrius Charles Productions

As I sit gazing out the window, listening to the raindrops knock on the roof top, I cant help but allow my mind to wander. Lately he has been all that I can think about. The weather didnt help much either. The dark and gloomy skies took me on an emotional journey, hell bent on being a rollercoaster. How did I end up here? How did this become my life? A Mistress to one of the most prominent politicians with a wife more prominent in her social circle.
I sit here feeling empty and lonely and uncharacteristically unloved. But how can that be? His wife embodied beauty and brains and yet, he returns to me. In the comfort and solace of MY embrace, the warmth of MY touch, the sweet caress of MY kisses. He's lost in the pools of MY eyes! Every night he swims deeper and deeper into the depths of MY very soul. I feel him searching for freedom. But I cant, I wont let him leave. How do I tell him he belongs with me? That I complete him, that I fulfill him, that I make him feel alive!
Am I delusional? HE makes me whole. And with that revelation, I close my eyes and succumb to the crash landing that has become my reality. My heart is no longer mine. I have given it as penance to live in the moment as a Mistress. I have given it to live with the hunger that churns in my stomach as I see him pull up the driveway. It beats a little faster as he steps out in his gazillion dollar suit. As he runs through the pouring rain that insists on engulfing him in their trenches. All I can do is catch my breath when he looks up and our eyes lock. He smiles at me with those pearly whites and I instantly release in my undies. HE IS A GOD!

Yup, I know how this has become my life. The life of a Mistress. Mr. Brandon DuJour, State Senator, husband to Mrs. Whats-her-face DuJour, makes me weak in the knees. Makes me giddy with pleasure, like a kid in a candystore. And as I observe my lollipop treat making his way up the front porch, I lick my lips and blush. I immediately rush to the door and swing it open before his knuckles rap against it. He startles for a brief moment , scoops me in his arms and plants one on my freshly moist lips. He absently shuts the door behind us, never letting me go.
As we fumble through the Living room , expertly navigating our way to the Bedroom, never breaking embrace, I remember, this is how I ended up here. He did this to me. Feeling and acting sixteen again. It was fun and innocent and romantic and sexy and sinful all at once. I didnt want it to end. I never wanted it to end.
We fall uncontrollably onto the bed and laughed so hard, the only moment our mouths parted. He sits me ontop of his thighs and props me so he can swim in my eyes. And then it hits me. For the first time, I see it reflected in his eyes. Love. Is it me for him or him for me? But it was there. Love. And it appears real. SHIT! Not the Mistress. Not the Politician. Not the Husband. I push it to the back and remind myself why he was here. To fuck me senseless.
I smile at him and push him roughly back onto the bed. He smiles back (those teeth) and slaps my butt. He reaches up and unsnaps my bra. I see that he is pleased Im dressed for the occasion. Off came the bra and as I straddle him, off came the gazillion dollar jacket, tie and shirt. Why couldnt he make it easy for me too? Men, so darn selfish. But they do look oh so yummy in it all.
And there it was. In all its curly glory. I run my fingers through it and he giggles. My heart races. That giggle, so mesmerizing. I lean down and kiss his nipples and he moans. I glance at his face and there's that reflection again. I wonder, does he look at her the same way? The thought makes me bite his nipple hard. He squeals and I smirk.
My butt gets slapped much harder. Little does he know, I like it like that. Or maybe he does. He grabs each cheek and massages intensely. I sit up, remove his hands, stand and yanks off his trousers. I reposition myself onto his thighs. He pushes me back off, does yanking of his own with my undies and slides me ontop of his readied member. I inhale and enter Heaven, all doubts set aside for the time being.

42 Comments

Claudia The Artist Edwards

3/22/2018

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Claudia Edward is a Caribbean gem and a household name in St. Lucia and the Caribbean. She is most popular with the Asian continents especially where she does her annual jazz circuit – Thailand. The artist has been performing on 3-7 month contracts in Asia for the past 4 years. Her popularity there has also gained her and her band a headlining spot on the stage of the Hainan International Jazz Festival - February 2017.
“On the Edge” Is the title of Claudia’s 4th album released earlier this year 2016. The artist has to date released six (6) music videos from the album which features eleven (11) beautifully crafted alternative rock tracks.
Claudia is one of St. Lucia’s most accomplished musicians / entertainers and it shows in every performance and every song she releases. Promoters and event coordinators, who have seen and heard her, are always eager to have her back on their stage. Her latest album demonstrates her growth as a writer, performer and overall musician. As is the norm, it showcases her diversity as a singer, and entertainer. Some of her music features the work of producers & musicians both regional and international.

Claudia is no stranger to the stage, contracted as a main stage performer at the St. Lucia Jazz & Arts Festival in 2010, and performing at the various events during the festival every year. She tours Asia annually, was headlining act at the Jazz & Creole Festival in Dominica in 2013. Proving herself as one of St. Lucia’s premiere performers, she remains one of the few musicians who perform internationally – performing at the Sugar Bar in New York owned by Ashford and Simpson, upon invitation from international artist Freddie Jackson, selected among many Caribbean singers to represent the Caribbean during the London 2012 Olympics and also played major roles in plays like that of Sir Derrick Walcott.
Claudia and her band “Naked Chords” have given unforgettable performances at all events, been well received and we now wait with baited breath for this beauty’s next showcase.
Edward4Education Charity Foundation is the brainchild of the artist, where she gives back to her country. She works with schools on the island to create a better teaching and learning environment for the students and teachers. She has to date built a sick bay, learning centre, brought in a Shakespeare professional to conduct workshops on the island, and is presently working on a Theatre Arts Room for this year 2016-2017.
Read up more on this artist and her foundation on her website
Webpage: www.claudiaedwardmusic.com
Her Album “On The Edge” is available on Itunes, Amazon, CD Baby
Facebook: Claudia the artist
Twitter: claudiamusique
IG: Claudia.tedward

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SPOTLIGHT ON MHEGAN LEE

The Awakening ... I have a voice Part 2

SPOTLIGHT ON

IN FRONT AND BEHIND THE LENS

Confessions of a Mistress Pt 2

Yamon Wear by Peter Giscombe

The Awakening ... I have a voice Pt 1

The Incredible Mr. Oscar Restrepo

Confessions of a Mistress

Claudia The Artist Edwards

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