THE WORK IS DONE.
Done.
256 codes of Ifa completed.
I believe I do fly.
We all fly.
High above the clouds of limitations, we soar.
Done.
256 codes of Ifa completed.
I believe I do fly.
We all fly.
High above the clouds of limitations, we soar.
I’m in my studio working on my second complete corpus of 256 Odu Ifa signatures.
It is a full catalog of African alphabets of intellectual origin.
Working it out in the studio.
Oladejo Okediji, 1929-2019.
Death knocked on the door, ko ko ko ko; ko ko ko ko.
My father got up from the bed and went to the door and, very boldly, opened the door, saying, “Here I am. I’m ready for your very worst.”
Death: It’s not my fault. It’s just a job. This is what I’m paid to do.
Baba: I understand. Do it. Let’s get it over with.
(Computer + Odu Ifa)
Where is Mama Nigeria? Is the nation motherless? Where is the Helen Sirleaf Johnson of Nigeria?…
Baba Rowland Abiodun, author of the groundbreaking treatise, YORUBA ART AND LANGUAGE: SEEKING THE AFRICAN IN AFRICAN ART, enlightening the audience at the University of Texas, Austin.
I remember when I was a curator at the Denver Art Museum from 1999-2008.
One of the highlights of my days in Denver was the opening of the African art gallery designed by Daniel Libeskind, (aka Best Architect in the World).
It is five years already when I did this solo.
The soil is the medium–not a single drop of synthetic paint in my work: I produce every color with carefully collected soils.
I gave my paper titled, “Can’t Kant Count: Ifa Divines for African Art History,” at the University of Wisconsin, Madison, over the weekend.
Many people gave me warm responses.
Here I was, doodling on my coffee cup while listening to another talk at the conference.
CAN’T KANT COUNT?
My Egungun is dancing as we speak in an exhibition at the University of Wisconsin, Madison, as part of an installation titled “Whirling Return of the Ancestors.”
The stuff in my office needs organizing. One day I’ll get to it. One of these days when I have nothing to do.