I have handmade 101 clay pots with the faces of different poets from around the world on them. I am leaving the pots, along with poems by those poets around the city for people to discover, read, and take home with them.
One question.
Two choices.
No, three choices.
What are you?
Colonialist and colonized.
Both, and something all my own.
First we will feel and make room for grief, knowing that in love’s time we will go forward, greater than we were, better for having known another.
In the distance, I see possibility and joy. Each day, a celebration of the triumphant version of me.
The surgeon, delicately tracing through time and place, where parting became religious embracing…
He sits on a river bank somewhere, not seeing the difference in the river bank he sat on from miles away, seeing the same sunset and sunrise.
Maybe the bluebird in my chest went there too. Then, as if its wings of flight caught my soul, I felt a flutter in my chest again.
I, on horseback, ran into it – as it, with its dark foreboding message, surrounded me. It was after me, it wanted desperately to take me.
Images of “Our Changing World” using poetry and photographic portraiture. Images of who we are and what may follow. South African artist, Tanisha Bhana, seeks to “ignite a subconscious repulsion and connection to common associations that tie us together.” Her poetry and photographic images are provided for your thought and reflection.
We, like fabric as one, as the stage is set and the actors prepare for their final acts.
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