the peace of the river brings me closer to me. like us, she flows directly from her source, while trying to find her way back to it at the same time. never in a rush, but never late. water’s ability to be everywhere at once — on the ground and in the mountains, in the clouds yet in a child — is all the proof you need that time is imaginary. take your time. (at The Seine River, Paris)
one | love
each of us originates from the same single source –– be it God, the darkness beneath the stars, or a womb –– just as a forest’s veins sprout upwards from the same soil. our souls know no color, no definition, no class, no vanity. however, imperialism + family (meet his brother fascism; his step-son, jim crow; peak over the piles of coins and to glimpse at sallie mae) have gouged lines in the sands of civilization.
please, i beg you, stop using the “we are all one race” defense against victims of racial injustice… we know. in fact, it’s our grasp of this fact that ignites our restless flames of rage, doused by our deeply-rooted indignation of just how God’s children can pervert such a perfect gift. how can a world of people so alike in spirit, ordained by our sole Creator, still spin so marred, so distorted, so divided, by delusions of man?
and still i love us.
thomas hoepker. children cool off with open fire hydrants on a hot july weekend.
© 1983. harlem.
kerry james marshall. souvenir ii.
© 1997. acrylic, paper + glitter on unstretched canvas.
alex webb. west indian day parade celebrants in costume.
© 2004. brooklyn.