Together, There is Nothing We Can't Achieve

                            


Here, our mischievous kitten couple scales the fireplace and hangs from the mantle in a harrowing attempt to investigate the presents placed there--supposedly out of their reach.  I have no doubt that they'll be victorious and after their owner(s) scold them, I'm sure he/she will be impressed by their tenacity and teamwork.

In all seriousness, I post this three days after the tragic murders of 20 children and 6 adults in Sandy Hook, Newtown, CT.  There is horror and despair in the hearts of millions in the country and around the world.  Some will look to their neighbors and loved ones for comfort and support, I fear that others will turn to fear and will seek to arm themselves in protection.  My prayer is that in this holiday season--one that has lost its joy for many--we do the former and hang on and lean on each other in this time of mourning and national soul searching.  That is part of what is needed to honor the lives we lost on Friday.

The Quaker Station

                           The Quaker Station 24" x 36" Oil on Canvas $350

Yes it's been a long time since I've posted a painting and this painting has been a long time coming.  But it is a renewing feeling to have finally completed it.  The Quaker Station is yet another scene from a piece of  historical fiction I wrote when tracing my ancestral roots.  When contemplating the number of possible motives that propelled my great (x4) grandmother, Elizabeth King, ( a free woman of Native American and Caucasian blood) to take her small children and leave Washington, DC for New Bedford, MA in 1850, I hypothesized that she may have been involved, in some way, in what became known as the Underground Railroad.  The passing of the Fugitive Slave Act of 1850 would have put her in greater jeopardy than she was under the 1793 version of the law. Prior to the 1850 Fugitive Slave Act and following Prigg vs. Pennsylvania (1842), states were not required by Federal Law to hunt or recapture runaway slaves. There were also a number of personal liberty laws passed by northern states that further weakened the 1793 Fugitive Slave Act, allowing havens for blacks to spring up all across the north.
     However, the 1850 Act seriously fined any federal marshall or state official that knowingly did not capture a suspected runaway slave regardless of their feelings on the subject; and law enforcement would have to pursue capture if any owner or interested party only presented sworn testimony that their slave(s) had run away. Also any person aiding a slave's fleeing by providing food or shelter could likely be jailed for six months and fined $1,000.  I suspect the culmination of these new laws made Washington and other slave-holding jurisdictions an unbearable home for many, especially those involved in the Underground Railroad.
      In this painting Elizabeth King, as a fictionalized protagonist, does not leave Washington with only her children, but with fugitive slaves.  The group has found refuge with Quakers who (true to some accounts in history) used a subterranean tunnel that lead to a nearby creek found in coastal Maryland as a hiding place and impromptu religious school for the men and women.  Elizabeth King is reading from Deuteronomy 23: 15-16--a very appropriate Bible passage for their situation. Also, note two other details: a darkouba is being held in an older gentleman's hand in the foreground.  The darkouba is a West African small percussion that I theorized an older slave may have learned to make as a child prior to the official end of the U.S.'s involvement in the Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade.  Also notice the quilt being used as a shawl draped over an older woman's shoulders on the right side of the composition.  If you enlarge the image, you'll better see the quilt patches that contain coded messages.  The woven motifs are images of the north star and a sailing vessel.  Quilt codes are thought to have been one of several means of secretive communication slaves used when plotting their escapes to freedom.  The north star would have reminded a runaway to follow the reliable star to ensure they're headed above the Mason-Dixon Line and towards free states and territories.  The sailing vessel would have told an escapee to flee on boat as opposed to foot or horseback.
     I hope that, if nothing else, viewers are further educated on a very complicated and still relevant moment in history.  It is my goal to do so as I continue to search for and find meaning and identity through my ancestry.

Dr. King '63

Dr. King '63 14" x 17"           Graphite on Paper

I've been hesitant to draw Dr. King in the past. It is a tall task because I have never known Dr. King as a man but rather a symbolized historical figure. I was born nearly sixteen years after his assassination. His birthday became a Federal Holiday when I was only a year old. He has been honored with streets, highways, and bridges in every major city of this country. Stevie Wonder's 1980 birthday salute to him has been spinning on the turntable of my mind for as long as I can remember. I can go on. His well deserved symbolization has honored his name as much as it's served as a tall stone wall between those of us who missed his life and his true essence. In drawing his likeness I found myself reaching beyond King the iconic symbol to something more tangible. Did this portrait reach such a goal? I don't know. Perhaps not. But here is my first real attempt in doing so.

My Direction

                                                              11" x 17"   graphite on paper

My newest portrait of my daughter set in the frame of a compass rose. I believe the title explains all for this one.

2011: International Year of the African Diaspora

I created this design, primarily through digital means, to be put on a T-shirt as a fundraiser for my home church: Metropolitan A.M.E. of Washington, DC. As of today, that process is in limbo. But regardless of the outcome, I wanted to post the design since there has been a lull in my posting frequency.

The T-shirt was meant to highlight the fact that the U.N. has declared 2011 to be the International Year for Peoples of African Descent. I thought long and hard about what image to put on a shirt before finally landing on this one: three dancing silhouettes filled by the flags of the top 35 countries with black populations. I looked up which countries had the highest percentages of black populations and list them in order from the island nation of St. Kitts and Nevis (98% black pop.) to Israel (2.8% black pop.). There are a number of countries that did not make this list, I know, but for the purpose of this design, I decided to basically stop at a 2.8% black population. Note: Canada and Italy have smaller black populations and were added to the patchwork quilt of flags, largely because I both wanted more European representation and because Canada, I know from history, owes much of its black population, small though it may be, to the runaway slaves from the U.S.--an integral part the Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade's leg of the forced migration of African Descended People.

The dancers in the image are striking poses I found while perusing images of African and Hip-Hop dance--a perfect bridge between our past and present, I thought. My hope at this point is that the Daniel Alexander Payne CDC organization of Metropolitan A.M.E. will approve the design, all will go well with the printing, and this will desgin will be across the chests of "Met" members and extended family throughout the DC Area.

Last Catch

Last Catch 9"x12" Acrylic    Apr. 09

This was painted for my father who, through our church's men's group, introduced me to fishing as a child.  The painting is my idealistic rendering of a boy who loves fishing (as I do) but set in the times of my father's childhood, when chrome fenders and white innertubes often adorned bikes.  The river was based the James River where I fish today.

The Apotheosis "Land Ho, New Bedford"

The Apotheosis (Land Ho, New Bedford) "40x30" Oil

This painting is a part of the narrative derived from my great, great, great grandfather's life.  His mother took her young family from Washington, DC and they headed to the whaling capital of New Bedford, Massachusetts in 1850 just as the Fugitive Slave Act was passed.  Though his mother, Elizabeth was a free woman, and consequently so was Isaiah and his siblings, the South was still a hostile environment for many blacks free and enslaved. Often, no regard was shown for a "Negro's" status and blacks were being kidnapped and brought to owners, granted reward money and backed by Federal Law.

 New Bedford, however,  was a haven of free blacks. The seaport offered jobs to blacks who'd learned maritime trades when enslaved. Well-established blacks, abolitionist whites--some of whom were Quakers, and a myriad of immigrants carried to the United States by globe trotting whale ships provided protection to New Bedford's emerging African American population.  It was there that my ancestor, Isaiah King, was raised. From there he'd go on to fight in the Civil War and later embark on whaling voyages around the world.

In this scene, the fictional bark I named Apotheosis, smuggles the King family, among others, into New Bedford's port near the mouth of the Acushnet River.