The images I bring to you were inspired by John Lewis’ graphic novel series “March” (the third installment of which was just released recently accompanying its national book award), I wanted to send out some images from my new series “Over/come(ing).” This series of paintings was initially conceived in reflection about current marches and their connection to marches in the past – mostly the famous march, the march in 1965 the walk from Selma to Montgomery, Alabama. Within this work, I seek to explore the power/complexity/hopefulness of social movement (s), the most powerful of human creations, for improving the world, appropriately, I will post a part of a painting from the series each day for the month of March, which we should now think of not just as a month or as a way to mark time but also as a call to action and freedom.
Commentary for #2
The turbulent period of the march of 1965 in the United States was in many respects a reflection of my own turbulence and thus I remember it well. Inside, I was expecting a child and in an unhappy relationship. As a result, my focus was fragmented and there was a uncertainty of the future, all thoughts moving through me at once. Outside, the struggle for human and civil rights was being waged against a seemingly unbending ideology of separation, anger and hurtful language, boldly denying people the right to exist and to pursue what they wished. The right to vote was the major topic of discussion, with many sub-grievances which turned out to be even more important (e.g., economic inequality).
Watching television, the message I received and saw was that we were people - a beautiful people, endowed with the same ethos of that which created all things. Seeing the strength, the commitment, deeply flowing out from the people steadfast in the face of something you knew was wrong was incredibly empowering.
As such, the march not only challenged societal oppression and political repression as well as strengthened all of those who bore witness to it but, more personally, it challenged my own inter-personal oppression as well as strengthened me and those who bore witness. The struggle was within; the struggle was without. It sounds odd to say it but from the march I was inspired and uplifted. In its wake, I knew I would be able to accomplish what I set out to do: addressing my difficult decision to put things in truth.