art

You’ve got to love your local library

| Sheree

With my knapsack on my back, I went a wandering. Wandering and wondering is part of my summer field guide plans ( more to follow here with updates). It wasn’t too hot and it wasn’t too cold. It was just right.

I had a bundle of old photographs with me, probably half of my family archive of photographs, as I was going to get them photocopied for a project I’m working on ( more to follow here too).

At my local library, there are two photocopiers. I usually use the downstairs one. But this one was broken. Has been for a few weeks. So I had to go upstairs and use that one.

This photocopier upstairs is manually operated and all monies have to be given to the librarian sitting not far from it.

I asked to use the photocopier. They said yes and I started the job. As I’ve said there were a few photographs to get through and the librarian did say they were leaving momentarily, swapping out.

They stayed for the duration of the job. I paid for the copying and then I took a minute to turn around and look at the new books . Something I do from time to time.

The librarian said at the same time, I was just going to say that there are new books in if you want to have a look at them. Don’t you just love getting your hands on new books? And I had to agree with them.

And there, right in the middle of the shelf, facing me at eye level was the new book from Christena Cleveland, The Black Madonna.

You might remember that another book from Christena Cleveland has been featured on this blog. God is a Black Woman. Ring any bells?

A book I travelled with to Paris, and the outskirts as I took a mini trip to France in search of Black Madonnas.

Well, Cleveland’s next instalment is The Black Madonna, is a further reclamation of the divine feminine, part memoir, part global stories, part historical records, part invocations and rituals. Total liberation.

Part way through this book, where at the end of each chapter there is an invitation to actively allow Black Madonna into your life more fully, I’m drawn to the task of mapping Black Madonna’s loving pursuit of us. Of me throughout my life.

Cleveland presents the story that Black Madonna, is the sacred black feminine worshipped from time, from Africa. When the people of Africa were stolen, taken across the ocean to be enslaved, the sacred black feminine in the form of Osun, orisha of the Osun river begged Yemoja, Mother of all Orishas and Oceans, to let her go with them. Osun’s love for her people was limitless and she didn’t want them to think that she had forsaken them, forgotten them or stopped loving them because of their forced departure .

Yemoja granted Osun’s wish by transforming her into rain, so she could cross the ocean and be with her people who needed her most. So within the Americas, and the Caribbean, Osun crossed an ocean, transforming herself into a more light-skinned goddess so her people would recognise her in these strange new lands, where they had been enslaved and all Africanness bred and/or whipped out of them. She crossed an ocean not just out of love for us, but to empower us. Who has not heard of the slave rebellions inspired and led by Black Madonna, by black women? Who do. you think Harriet Tubman’s North Star was?

Black Madonna. Shape-shifter. Black women. Shape-shifters.

Anyway, I thought I’d share my mapping of Black Madonna’s loving pursuit of me for the past 6 years on this blog this month as I’m in need of feeling that I am not alone.

I’m in need of feeling that I have a black divine presence in my life who’s got me. Who’s there to catch me when I fall.

I’m not religious more spiritual. And because of the white washing of religion,I would’t claim any religion as truth, as something to put my faith in. Never.

I’d much rather put my faith and trust and love into black women. God is a Blackwoman, right. And there is something about Black Madonna that keeps drawing me back to her. That gives me peace and joy when I sent eyes on her.

So who wouldn’t these feelings to continue? Who wouldn’t want to highlight and amplify these feels through difficult times?

We Deserve Monuments

| Sheree

I don’t know about you but I love me a good book cover.

You must have chosen to read a book because of the cover, right?

That’s what I’ve just done.

I recognised the artist as Laylie Frazier. I knew her work from reading Christena Cleveland’s work The Black Madonna.

Researching up more of Laylie Frazer’s work, I found this book over for We Deserve Monuments.

A mixed race teenager with freckles and a lip piercing, defiantly holding the viewers gaze. Yes.

I had to start reading this book. Then to find out it’s a young adult book, and the main character from the cover is Avery and is gay. Yes. Then read on.

In my Summer Field Guide, which I have to fill you in on as there’s been developments, this week was earmarked for a YA read to fit in with how I’m summering like it’s 1985.

Everything is aligning. And the book does not disappoint.

Avery is uprooted from DC to her mum’s childhood home in rural Bardell, Georgia, because Mama Letty ( Avery’s grandma) is dying. The family hasn’t been back for years because of some family rift and secret, which no one will talk about. Avery makes new friends and starts to settle into her new life, even though there’s talk of one of her friend’s mum being murdered by her rich dad who’s linked to the past of slavery, slaves and plantations.

And still no one wants to talk about the past but everything is linked to the present and what happens moving forward.

Right, after sharing this with you, I continue to read now.

Getting a bit rough

| Sheree

“Dangerous is the woman who can give herself what she used to seek from others. Limitless is the woman who dares to name herself. The way I see it, shame cannot oppress what acceptance has already claimed for sovereignty.” – Tarana Burke

A plot upon a plot

| Sheree

After my day retreat with WOC Azadi I came home with a date in the diary to play.

I’d set it up with Theresa Easton to go play with her letterpress printing gear again. I didn’t have so much as a plan as I did have a word: PLOT.

I rocked up with a number of different subtracts to play with and just wanted to explore what I mean when I use the word, PLOT.

We set up the printing plate with the word PLOT repeated in different type fonts. We arranged them into a neat A5 sized piece and then let the inking commence.

I played with different coloured inks, directions of papers, different papers and got myself into a meditative rhythm.

It was so much fun and I’m so grateful to Theresa to allowing me to play in her studio for free.

It was good to catch up too and chew the fat.

More. I want more play like this.

The Plot of Our Repair

| Sheree

I had the pleasure of gathering with the WOC Azadi again in Sheffield today.

We gathered to share ideas around how to plot/plotting our healings, our liberation together.

Visual journaling was on hand to capture our thoughts, feelings, plans and plots.

It was such a nurturing and nourishing space in nature. It was a gathering of hope and aspirations.

It was an honour to be part of the day retreat. Ideas for The Plot of Our Repair came about from a reading is Saidiya Hartman’s essay , The Plot of her Undoing (2020).

The plot of her undoing begins with his dominion. It begins in the fifteenth century with a papal bull, with a philosopher at his desk, pen in hand, as he sorts the world into categories of genus and species. It begins with a bill of sale, with a story in the newspaper that enumerates her crimes, with a note appended to the file: she answers questions easily, but appears stupid; it begins with a wanted poster that reduces the history of her life to a single word-condemned.

And then towards the end of this essay there is a switch. A turn to explore how we can undoing the plot of her undoing. How we can move against the forces aiming to ruin/ control/ oppress the black/brown woman.

The undoing of the plot proceeds by stealth. It is almost never recognized as anything at all and certainly never as significant.

…

It begins with the earth under her feet. It begins with all of them gathered at the river and ready to strike, with all of them assembled in the squatter city, with all of them getting ready to be free in the clearing.

The undoing of the plot begins with her runaway tongue, with her outstretched hands, with songs shared across the unfree territory and the occupied lands, with the pledges of love that propel struggle, with the vision that this bitter earth may not be what it seems.

The undoing of the plot, the plot developing towards our repair was started before us. We stand on the shoulders of our ancestors. We continue this journey, this plotting together. Today makes me feel that we have already won.

Purple’s not usually my colour

| Sheree

I love colour. Colour brings me a lot of joy. Red is usually my go to. Brown used to be my nemesis. But through use and practice I have learned to work well with brown now.

But purple is still a stumbling block. I’m not sure what it is with purple. It’s a regal colour, a symbol of power. But it just doesn’t do it for me.

It might be its sense of power that might be just too much for me. Too powerful.

Anyway, I was determined to worked into the colour purple today. Different shades of purple, to build up some layers, working it toward a pink palette. This sat better with me, for me. Made it easier on the eye and heart to be with purple.

Laying down the colour field, the piece felt flat and incomplete. Adding black and white lines worked for me. Gave me something to hang a feeling on.

That feeling was, the purple can stay 💜

Eurovision Has Been Co-opted

| Sheree

Photo: Jens Büttner/Getty

I was brought up on the Eurovision Contest. We would gather together at my mum’s with food and drink, and sing along to every song even though we didn’t know the words.

It was an occasion of celebration and fun. We laughed and cried, argued and commiserated.

Whenever I think of Eurovision, I automatically think of my mum. But I can no longer hold Eurovision close to my heart. I cannot continue to support this institution any longer as it has become co-opted by Isreal.

Within hours of Russian invading the Ukraine in 2022, it was banned from Eurovision. Why hasn’t the same happened to Israel?

We have to ask the question what is happening behind the scenes? Especially when last year Israel received the biggest support from the public vote when we know that the genocide in Gaza is not supported by the majority?

Nemo, who won Eurovision in 2024, probably the last time I watched Eurovision, has returned their trophy in protest at Israel’s inclusion. As well as the 1994 winner Charlie McGettigan(from Ireland) returned their trophy in protest too.

There is something rotten in Eurovision.

There is no music that can cover up the atrocities that are happening to the Palestinians. No amount of music can justify a genocide. There is no stage that should platform genocide and apartheid.

Spain, Slovenia, Iceland, Ireland and the Netherlands are boycotting this year’s Eurovision because they cannot continue to ignore the genocide in Gaza.

No Music For Genocide has an open letter which states :

We refuse to be silent when Israel’s genocidal violence soundtracks and silences Palestinian lives. When children in Israeli prisons endure beatings for humming a tune. When all that’s left of nearly every stage, studio, bookshop and university in Gaza is piles of rubble, under which slaughtered bodies still await recovery and proper burial. 

As artists, we recognise our collective agency – and the power of refusal. We refuse to be silent. We refuse to be complicit. We call on others in our industry to join us. And we stand in solidarity with all principled efforts to end complicity in every industry.

No stage for genocide. #BoycottEurovision.

Consider signing the letter and standing with Palestine here.

Irish TV, RTÉ, will be broadcasting the 1996 episode A Song for Europe , Father Ted as Ireland boycotts Eurovision in protest against Israel’s inclusion.

It’s a funny episode which I won’t mind watching as Father Ted and Father Douglas perform their song My Lovely Horse. I’ll not spoil it by telling you how many points they get!

Slovenia are planning to air documentaries under the theme of Voices of Palestine.

These countries boycotting and showing their condemnation of Israel and support for Palestine is what more countries and people should be doing, and I don’t use ‘should’ lightly.

One more point, the Father Ted episode is satire. The Irish put them into Eurovision because the song was so dreadful that they hoped they wouldn’t win again so that they wouldn’t have to foot the bill for hosting the next year’s contest.

Ireland has won the contest 7 times, and back to back wins in 1992 and 1993, is said to nearly have bankrupted the country as they had to host the concert again and again.

For me this is a clear indication of Eurovision, the non disqualification of Israel, the lack of calling out the genocide all comes down to money and vested interests.

The Wind and Rain

| Sheree

As the north-east is gripped in another cold snap, with wind and rain, in May, I’m desiring a return. A return to Faro, Portugal, where in March, I enjoyed a few days of warmth, relaxation and inspiration.