I met Karl Reeves, the man in this drawing, at the opening of my June 2015 show at SoleSpace. He was kind enough to invite me to his pop-up art and retail space, to record a short film on my work. Many thanks to him and to the Veudo Child Crew for the opportunity to share my work in this way. A relatively recent emigre from the midwest, Karl is an artist himself, as well as the creator of the Art is for Lovers gallery in Bronzeville, Milwaukee, Wisconsin. A true force for positive change in the Milwaukee art scene, we are fortunate that he has chosen to make the SF Bay Area his home.
Here’s another drawing from the Comic-Con 2014 sketchbook that I dug out from the bottom of my backpack. I don’t know how I missed out on posting this last summer or fall.
I met this guy at the Prism Comics table. If he saw this drawing, he might not recognize himself–because he’s actually not orange in real life and because, in real life, his face is a little rounder than I drew it.
I’m pretty sure I wrote this man’s name and email address in my sketchbook, but I couldn’t find it anywhere. He’s a really nice guy, and he even purchased one of my zines. I hope to see him this coming year at the Prism table. If I don’t run into him there, I’ll at least hope to see him at Bent-Con.
There are many ways of wearing dreadlocks. This brother prefers the free and easy, low-maintenance way. The roots are kind of fuzzy, and the locks he wears are wildly different thicknesses, but the effect is still fabulously, fiercely, unrepentantly, and proudly Black.
As a nation we seem to have very short memories. Fear of the black man just didn’t start overnight, and it didn’t just happen during the course of our lifetime; like any singularity it has to have a beginning. Its origin has been embedded in this nation’s consciousness since the Nat Turner revolt; a pathological fear that the oppressed will one day rise up and inflict vengeance upon the oppressor.
I ran into this brother several times during Comic-Con, and each time he was wearing a crisp white shirt. The thing that really caught my attention, though, was his beautifully maintained dreadlocks. The second or third time we crossed paths, he notice me starting at his hair; and he shot me a look out of the corner of his eye that seemed to say, “Sista, I see you see me, and it’s all good.”
I could probably do a series of 1001 drawings focused solely on the different styles and stages of dreadlocks I’ve encountered in the Bay Area. This guy, whose sleeve length and hair length were highly appropriate for the recent hot weather, had large and express eyes that I simply could not forget
I passed this brother on MacArthur the other day. I’d just come out of World Ground Cafe, and I’d only made it a couple doors down. He was dressed in the uniform of a house painter (white shirt and white painters’ pants), and he was talking on his cellphone. I’m not sure how or why I remember those details, since I was completely distracted by his hair.
His head was shaved clean except for a little line of short braids (or locks) located just above the nape. His mustache and sideburns were trimmed to perfection, and someone had put tiny white beads on each of the braids/locks on the back of his head.
The line of hair at the back of the head is not my particular taste, but I have to give this brother his props. I might not like the style, but for what he was doing, the upkeep was flawless.