Because I am now always home, I went into my garage and discovered a body of about ten large paintings dating to 1993.
This is one of them.
I just painted and rolled up the canvases, and forgot about them.
You really have to spend a lot of time to visually excavate them. There are so many things buried into the body of the colors.
Artist: Moyo Okediji
Title: Farewell
Medium: acrylic on canvas.
Date: June 1994.
Michael Harris
My brother, Michael Olonade Harris, has transitioned.
This loss is enormous.
He was my inspiration, critic, supporter, strength, teacher, collector, promoter, everything.
I knew.
I teach now by Zoom.
It feels weird to sit in the studio, talking to a screen, wondering if you are not crazy.
The computer tells me the names of everybody logged into the class, listening and watching me.
But who else is with them, also watching and listening? How far will the recording of the session travel?
When I arrived the United States in 1992 to start a doctorate at UW, Madison, I had only $98 in my pocket.
My professor, Henry Drewal, quickly came to my assistance. He immediately paid my school fees for the first semester, and gave me $1,000 in cash to start me off. Then he provided me with free accommodation in the posh part of town for the first year of my studies, while I found my feet.
2: The Return
He was flying back “home” for the first time in his life.
At thirty-six, he felt that he had waited a little too long.
But better late than never: this is the moment he had been waiting for all his life.
He peeped out through the window of the aircraft as it descended toward their landing, with the building, vehicles and roads becoming bigger and bigger as the plane drew nearer the landing ground.
William Shakespeare, KING CHARLES III, Act 1, Scene 1 (#4) EGUNGUN: How, oh king, would you…
Iya Oyo!” I hailed. “Baba Oyo told me this story about Orí, and it doesn’t make any sense to me whatsoever.”“What story?” she asked. “Is it from his Bible? There are lots of incredulous stories in that book of his.”“No, it’s not from grandpa’s Bible,” I assured her. “He said it’s a story his mother told him.”