“the water brought us, the water will take us away”

I have  written about “the Painter of Light” before on this blog.  Joseph Mallord William Turner’s works have always drawn my eyes, but none moreso than this painting.  The Slave Ship chronicles an actual event in British history — when over 100 African slaves were tossed overboard with shackles on their limbs into shark-infested waters.  The people on that boat were herded into the sea like animals.

In 1803 in the waters of Dunbar Creek off St. Simons Island, SC a group of Africans also died in the ocean.  In an area now known as Ebo Landing, the story seems to be that after a failed slave rebellion,  a dozen or more Africans of the Igbo people decided to no longer be enslaved.  Their leader’s voice rang out:   “The water brought us and the water will take us away.”  And then, together, they walked into the sea.

That story and many others are captured in American slave narratives.  Here are just a few wonderful resources:

Virginia Slave Narratives

http://xroads.virginia.edu/~hyper/wpa/index.html

Slave Narratives from the Federal Writers’ Project

http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/snhtml/

Oklahoma Slave Narratives

http://www.okgenweb.org/slave.htm

A New Look at Daughters of the Dust

Daughters of the Dust is a beautiful complex tale about an African American family of Gullah heritage.  The time is 1902 and the family is preparing to embark “up north.”  They gather at Ebo Landing on St. Simons Island off the coast of South Carolina. In part, the film presents a universal story of change involving birth and death, migration and intergenerational conflict.  It is also a story that celebrates the resilience and adaptability of a people and a culture.  The richly layered story is steeped in a history that is not well-known by many people.  You almost need a cheat sheet to understand all of the historical references and cultural nuances.

I had seen the movie before, nearly twenty years ago, in college with a group of friends.  What I remembered were the young women, dressed in white, who looked like us.  They were every shade of brown, from café au lait to dark chocolate.  Their hair was every texture and length, from a straight waterfall of red-blonde hair to a close-cropped boy’s cut.  The landscape struck me as both familiar and foreign, with its sparkling blue waters against white sands.  And I remembered the language, English but also African, which rolled from dark lips like a song.  I saw the movie again with a friend who had little experience of African American culture.  He enjoyed the movie though he had a hard time with the Gullah dialect.

This time I focused less on the young women preparing to cross the water for a new life.  My attention centered on the family matriarch who intended to stay behind.  She did not wear white.  Her dress was blue, dyed with indigo, as were her hands.  From a throne-like chair, she sat with her family arrayed around her.  Her voice rang out, with a lyrical rhythm, reciting family history, sharing old lore, and giving advice based on a life long-lived.  She reminded me of my mother, of my aunt, and of the other elderly women in my life – those people who are the caretakers and the storytellers and the memory keepers.

Youthful ebullience for new destinations, experiences and opportunities is important in life and, this film illustrates, that such energy must also be tempered by the gravity and wisdom that comes with time.  Remembrance of the past, represented as diversely as a charm or a song or a wooden statue floating in the waves, is vital for achieving our dreams.

Sunday is for slow cooking.

View Through a White Web

Winter Sunlight

More NASA Images: Drawn in by the Rich Colors

http://www.nasaimages.org/index.html

February Updates …

Hi, folks.  Here’s this month’s update about some of my creative activities.  A quick colorful read I hope.  Enjoy!

New Discoveries:  Breakheart Reservation

Familiar Places in a New Season:  Winter at the Arnold Arboretum, Middlesex Fells, Edmands Park and Fort Independence

Unexpected Magic:  A Frozen Waterfall

Future Exhibits:  Somerville Open Studios 2010

I registered for this year’s Somerville Open Studios, taking place May 1 and 2.  Since I don’t have a studio to open up to the public, I opted to exhibit in the community space at the Somerville Armory.  As I learn more details, I’ll be sure to share.  Meanwhile, here’s the official website:  http://www.somervilleopenstudios.org/

Magic in the Middle of the Woods: A Frozen Waterfall

Finding the waterfall was Steve’s idea.  He remembered it from an earlier hike that we had done in the Fells in autumn.  When temperatures recently plummeted into the teens (and that’s before adding in the wind chill factor), he said, “Let’s try to find it again.  Imagine the ice!”

Usually, I am quite game for such adventures, but this time, after a long drive and a long hike to get to the place we kinda-sorta-thought the waterfall was (but it wasn’t), I found myself  silently cursing as we struggled up a cliff, slid on ice hidden beneath snow, and snagged ourselves in thorny thickets.

The light was fading fast, and coming in at odd angles over the hills and through the trees.  I was cold and not happy for lots of reasons.  But, then I paused to take a sip of water.  A glimmering on the land caught my eyes.   Upon closer scrutiny, I realized that what I had first assumed was simply more ice on rocks was in fact a stream.   Beneath a thick, clear glassy seal, its waters ran swift.   We followed those waters to where they eventually cascaded over rocks as a waterfall.

For a while the cold was forgotten as we  took photos.  But when I could ignore the cold no longer, and had to jam my hands in my pockets, I just stood in the woods, and listened to the waters running.  It was a beautiful sound.

Old Books with New Resonance: Little House on the Prairie

I recently stumbled upon a series of books I had not thought about in years. Little girls everywhere love an adventure. That’s why, regardless of race, class and even chronological age, girls everywhere have enjoyed the books of Laura Ingalls Wilder depicting her family’s journey across the American midwest in the late 1800s. I certainly did as an African American girl growing up in southern Virginia.

I remember reading the books in elementary school. Even after I got tired of the series (my attention captured by Stuart Little and Charlotte’s Web), I continued to bring books home because my mother was reading them. It may be nostalgic embellishment, but I’d swear that I remember seeing her finish one, close the cover gently, and sigh. That sigh was filled with pleasure at a lovely read and sadness that the read was done.

There are numerous books in the series, some published during Wilder’s lifetime and others posthumously. My favorite versions are the early editions illustrated by Garth Williams.

The books are widely available in bookstores. You can learn more about Laura Ingalls Wilder here and about illustrator Garth Williams here.

Beautiful Book Covers (and Great Content!)