winter crown.
winter crown.
gọ̀ọ̀bì èèbó
lost and found gọ̀ọ̀bì òtútù
Interested in some of my published works?
Follow Me
winter crown.
gọ̀ọ̀bì èèbó
lost and found gọ̀ọ̀bì òtútù
etween the past and the future,
The present is squeezed to death.
Stop allowing the junk from the past,
or the apprehension about the future,
to steal the pleasure of your now.
Captive No More (III)
7.
Music is the language of tragedy,
and dance, the vocabulary of trauma.
Silence, the death of feelings,
marks the beginning of madness.
After my great grandmother in vain
yelled the name of her son, Akin,
several times, and got no response,
she stepped outside and scanned
where he was playing,
and yelled his name again,
when she did not see him there
her stomach sank
because down in the pit of her womb
she knew he was gone.
My last 256 ODU IFA painting has been acquired by the Boston community center, The Guild. It is a great home for the painting. They have huge walls and the painting graces one of the large walls by the entrance.
The mighty and resplendent Iya Iroko
tree had remained rooted
to the same spot
near the Oba river
for three hundred and sixty-four seasons
watching the ways of humans
from the viewpoint of a plant
under which folks sat
THE GYRATOR: ÒBÍRÍPO Orunmila has a beautiful daughter to give away in marriage. There are three…
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.