Inspired by Camille A. Brown & Dancers, ink
Inspired by Camille A. Brown & Dancers, ink
In response to ink.
I saw her alone
go to work
washing clothes on a washboard
on a porch
I saw her humming a song unto herself
ringing out clothes and hanging them to a line that stretched out toward the back of the house & every early morning sunrise
like culture design
I saw her also with my mind's eye
gently setting down glasses of water
along the path of time for another's…
well… every other man's survival
I so saw God in her in-betweens
in her palm tree bend and lean
Earthy
grounded
against the wildness of the wind
nature's process
she assumed the position of grace before it was preached
it came from her
Did you see the way she walked onto the stage?
Inherently
Understated woman
Overstated function
quietly stepping through the brush
In the night
So he can run…
So we can run.
It seems this is history written physically
She must
feed
till she bleeds
Us
I saw her alone
get up before the sun
and provide a place to go and to come
I didn't realize the importance of muscle memory until now
Habits repetitions practices rehearsals
I hate the redundant for performance sake
& the corporate capitalist take
She owns both ends of the spectrum
& just undoes all that my mind makes.
Did you see the way she stayed in her light?
I'll never forget all the times my black mother bent down to speak fire gently
and the times she stood stearn like a redwood to bellow authority
I imagine her practicing that for me
She rehearsed it softly with the brushes on the snare
Like a choreographed blink & twist to redirect my
naïve energy with care
I haven't ever remembered fire so tenderly
Engraving on my likeness
A story of love
On purpose
Historically
Like hieroglyphics
Did you see the way she returned to balance so easily?
I know her.
I believe in her more than live theatre
range. passion. commodity
they all called me strange for so long
I was loving her and trying to love like her
a brown-ish man.
That vacancy of certain paleness was always so ready to make wrong.
Her inaudible voice plays for me acapella hymns on vinyl
Her unseen red saltwater skin is the open serenity for miles
She seem to know all along
She carries our redemption songs.
Did you see her posture & confidence?
the way her tired hands turned the knob on the tub faucet to bathe her children
the same way she disassembles western culture and reassembles a home
I saw all that
In her wrist
& steps
As she followed right with…
through
Walk & lift kinetic suspension…
Catch that height and space…
Like moving in tandem with another dimension.
Speaking the unspoken.
I heard her retell the way she turned her back on enemies and still handed out honeycombs from her mind.
Her kinky coiled locks dripped & incandescense poured over her lips
filling free cups of nourishment & light
Simple wisdom for the journey
eclipse
the archaic surfaces
make practical the spirit
for cures to lack of preparation
A weakened defense
& the abandonment of common sense
She is an architect
Line upon line
Precept upon precept
Building buildings…
Towers of freedom and respect.
Did you see her body's lifted from toe to hair with exuberance?
Hips dip & bounce with a sacred communication…
incubation…
A subtlety… of the universe… perhaps magic.
Intention.
Contemplation…
Attracting attention.
Into trivialization…
sexualization…
misinterpretation…
exploitation…
Our eyes take like entitled thieves…
Mistreatment of her is evidence of…
wealth's misappropriation.
I'm sorry…
I didn't mean to see…
I mean…
I didn't mean to read…
I mean…
I didn't mean to know.
What I meant…
was.
Am I her detriment?
We're pained for her sentiment.
this sweetest.
embodiment.
timelessness in motion.
this is not for him.
he.
tries on the garments.
she became
and
finds devotion