
a measure of [blackness] inter posed between and among inhabited landscapes and an emanant murmur.
The purple stain, […] ingrains floral embellishments, inhabits longed-for gardens.
You've got to dig to dig it, you dig?





There’s something very healing about taking what is inside and bringing it to the outside. All forms of art and ritual can do that. It gives us an opportunity to see, to know, and to be in relationship with what is inside, whether it be our organs, our intentions, or our feelings. The process of finding form is healing in and of itself.
Janine Antoni via BOMB #154.

Revisiting Los Angeles, image shot in October 2017. Exposition Park Rose Garden.
Related:

Here. We Are, here. Here, we are at a place for blck Longevity. Here, we will be.
All summer connotations fill this light,
Jay Wright, “Light’s Interrupted Amplitude” from The Guide Signs. Copyright © 2007 by Jay Wright.
a symmetry of different scales—the site
of fibrous silence, the velvet lace
of iris, alders the moon can ignite.
One feels the amplitude of grief, the pace
of oscillating stars, power in place
where time has crossed and left a breathy stain.
A body needs the weight and thrust of grace.
I want to parse the logic, spin and domain,
the structure mourning will allow, the grain
of certainty in two estates, the dance
of perfect order, flowing toward its plane.
That bird you see has caught a proper stance,
unfaithful to its measure, a pert mischance
of divination on the move, the trace
of sacred darkness true to light’s advance.
poem via PF – Black Arts Movement.