I am speechless.
Anthonia Nneji has done me again.
I am speechless.
I must write her a poem.
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Anthonia Nneji has done me again.
I am speechless.
I must write her a poem.
Nobody, except I tell them, can figure out that in this painting lies a figure.
If you can decipher the figure, tell me what you see.
If you take a guess, I will inbox you with the answer.
Soon after you make a guess, check your inbox for the answer.
Two New African Proverbs:
1. The same people who place their knee on your neck will also be the first to ask “Why can’t you breathe?”
2. The same people who are causing your sadness will also be the first to ask “Why can’t you laugh?”
(Adapted from the Yoruba proverb, “Ẹ́ni tí ó bá sọ ni di olóríburúkú ni ó kọ́kọ́ má a ń fi bú ni:
By the way Beware those who promise heaven: They may take your earth and will stealthily…
My edited book on the work of Dotun Popoola is now out.
It looks so magnificent, like a grande Egungun performance.
The publisher says it goes for 50,000 naira per copy.
This hyper-colorful hardcover book that is larger than a royal Agbada arrived at my doorsteps for the New Year.
It is the most beautiful book I have ever seen.
Congrats to the wonderful art historians, Kunle Filani, Tolulope Sobowale, Olusegun Fajuyigbe, and Kehinde Adepegba, who contributed powerful essays to the book.
The Farmer of Colors
Harvesting a field
of chromatic linguistics
is akin to a dance:
first you must hold
your canvas like a partner
and place layers of
harmonious tinctures over
the picture plane.
Rivers of Life
Folks are flowing waters:
We fail to connect upstream,
Downstream we shall meet
Those you shun today,