I’m literally sitting writing this reading list in a Hugo Boss jacket that’s a bit too large for my small feminine frame. I found it barely worn in freshly dry cleaned in a “giveaway” box in my neighborhood. Everyone in the neighborhood leaves books, clothes and appliances out to share
20/20: An exhibition at the Carnegie Museum of Art in Pittsburgh, PA, July 22nd through December 31st 2017 REkOGNIZE: An installation by Bradford Young at the Carnegie Museum of Art in Pittsburgh, PA, June 16th through December 31st, 2017 When you explore the Carnegie Museum in Pittsburgh, it’s easy to become overwhelmed
Tables turn Moving around and around Seesaw goes up while the other one is down Just so you can push your friend back up again To take the turn The Swing goes Backward to move Forward Then Back & Forth You go up the Slide just to drop back down,
Do you believe in a love that informs, enriches, and encourages creativity? What is the purpose of love, if not to uplift us, becalm us, and embalm our broken spirits? We do not want to be crippled and asphyxiated in love, we must be able to soar; our spirits must
In African American and/or Black American culture, the African and or ancestral presence is both visible and invisible. The ways to name what is Black American is in music and the infamous cuisine that has come to be called “soul food.” The production of highly consumed products of Black labor
In part one, I wrote about a theme that has emerged in this column of the mercurial nature of artistic quality. i.e. one day this is good art; the next day that is good art. Even the eye of the beholder is fickle. I continued by identifying some trends among
What is a professional artist? That sort of word game can sometimes be trivial semantics. Or at best, a predictable Socratic inquiry that ends in “who can say?” But this question informs the way teachers advise students to enter the world as artists, so it’s important to form a basic
I like to think of my worries as such: A decaying tree that lays in the entrance of a walking path Where it vanishes at the edge and stings like a thorn bush stab From the Sycamore that rests here on the brim Between the feminine Ted Bundy and the
Satan’s in the sole of my left shoe We are having a confetti conversation now The words from your lips are bursting in colors of blue, yellow and red Floating pieces that never hit the ground Zenu is my mother Her ship will be here any minute To drop off
