The creative process
The creative process can be quite fun, walahi.
You give it what it takes.
Here I am making a new picture.
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BOY or GIRL?
If you were given the choice as a parent to produce just one child in your life, would you rather have a boy or a girl?
Traditionally we would all say a boy.
Now take a look at the pillar that these Amazon women are building.
It is made of steel inside, and it is covered by clay.
Make more children.
Make more children.
Many, many, many, more children.
More and more and more.
Àmọ̀tẹ́kùn kids.
Let every Amotekun woman produce ten.
Let every Amotekun man make 50.
There is food in the land to feed them.
The Farmer of Colors
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.
The Crossroads
I went into my garage and found a harvest of forgotten canvases waiting for me.
This corona break has given me some time to look at what I already have produced.
This is the last painting I did in 1992, just before leaving Nigeria.
You will notice that it is made from gouache.
This is too easy, right?
This is too easy, right?
Do you see this person?
It’s easy to see who is hiding in the picture and what the fellow is doing, isn’t it?
I wonder.
AMERICANA AT OKADA PARK
AMERICANA AT OKADA PARK
“You fine o. You wan marry Okada?”
“Excuse me?”
“Yes, nau. Mek Americana marry Okada.”
“What?”
“Lekki marry Ajegunle o, Americana marry musician…”
“Don’t understand you.”
