The other day I was in downtown Oakland, when I ran into this brother I know. He is incredibly tall; and big too. He’s the kind of guy who probably never gets messed with, because he looks like he could take out any and all comers. When I say he’s tall, I mean the kind of tall that would make him a star on his high school  basketball team even if he wasn’t particular good at shooting. On a rugby team, he would be the secret weapon, and in the boxing ring, his reach would throw a wrench in the technique of all but the most experienced fighters…Only, this guy isn’t really in sports. He’s bookish and kind, passionate about writing and active in anti-sexist and anti-racist social change.  Knowing him makes me wonder what it’s like to be big, tall, black, and male.  What is it like to be the vessel of so many stereotypes and expectations from people of a races and nations, to be the object of so many fantasies and fears, but to manifest so few? The way my friend moves through the world, it is clear that he is aware of but untouched by the expectations that even strangers place upon him. They swirl around him without every truly penetrating his own sense of self; and this graceful defiance is a beautiful thing to behold.

8-Rock

Although they were common in the 1800s, Black cowboys are a rare sight in 2010. But they still exist, and when I see a brother dress head to foot in western gear, I always take notice…like in the New Orleans airport back in July of this year. Between the high temperatures and the even higher humidity, I couldn’t quite figure out how a western and jacket with a bolo tie cinched up to the neck could possibly be comfortable summer attire; but, then again, sometimes style just has to trump more practical concerns like the weather. I dedicate today’s drawing to all those brothers who dress for winter in the summer and for summer in the winter, simply out of their sheer commitment to looking fly.

8-Rock

There were so many people crowded into 2100 block of Webster Street that half the crowd couldn’t see much past the people ahead of them. At an outdoor concert, though, it’s as much about hearing the music as it is about watching the performers. And, of course, a big part of the fun is seeing and being seen. That stranger in front of you appears to be captivated by his view of the guests up on stage, but don’t be so sure.

8-Rock

September 5, 2010, Oakland, California, enjoying free music and sunshine, at the corner of Webster and 21st.

8-Rock

Finished midday, Saturday, this drawing is a composite of several of the medical staff I saw crossing Ashby St., near Alta Bates hospital.

8-Rock

“Watching from the Sidelines”

I used to belong to a gym in downtown Oakland that has a beautiful indoor basketball court. I would always try to get there early–by 9am or so–so that I’d have enough time to do a little bit of a shooting workout before the guys on the noontime basketball league would arrive and begin warming up. Every day, including weekends, an army of guys ranging from about 30 to 50-something (and sometimes older) would show up to play some pretty hard ball during the mid-day lunch hours. Truth be told, I never payed much attention to the players on the court. When it comes to the kind of casual, sub-amateur play that takes place at most gyms, I prefer shooting on my own to watching others. I was always a lot more interested in the guys on the sidelines. The look in their eyes as they each waited their turn to join in said so much more about the meaning and love of basketball than anything that ever happened on the court.

8-Rock

Since so many of the men in this series either have neutral or confident expressions, I decided to try portraying trepidation and vulnerability. I thought it would be a nice contrast with the shirt and tie in this picture, since business attire so often conveys power and (self) determination.

8-Rock

Kehinde Wiley, whose work I truly enjoy, likes to place his African American men in classical poses from Old Master paintings. In my own work, I prefer the poses people strike in their everyday lives–hailing a taxi, waiting for the bus, standing in line a the post office, sitting alone in a restaurant. I’ve waited in a lot of lines this summer, just like the man in this drawing, looking at nothing in particular, and wondering when it’s finally going to be my turn.

8-Rock