Danger in a Body

Mickalene Thomas, Black Odalisque images

A classmate introduced me to Hélio Oiticica's Parangolé images today. What I found particularly mesmerizing about these photographic arrangements is the dialectic they produce between our bodies as sites of potentialities (invoked by the vivacity imparted onto the fabric and materials by the performing/dancing body) and the possibility of collective revolution or mystical transcendence (shown through communal participation in the wearing of these capes, and the semblance to sculpture created by the amalgamation of fabric, body, and environment). 

Wangechi Mutu

Marsha Hunt, Black is Beautiful movement

Thought it fitting to include this image In light of the Black Portraiture[s] conference in Paris exploring the ways in which the black body has been imagined in the West from the 19th century onwards.

“I do not know much about gods; but I think that the river Is a strong brown god”- T.S. Eliot from The Dry Salvages

I’ve always thought of myself as a strong brown impenetrable god. Sometimes a goddess. But always, a god. And in my universe, there are so few things worthy of my endeavor, among them: Love, Ecstasy, & Orgasm; Philosophy, Poetry, and Power. These are the axes, sensibilities, that balance and give meaning to my world. What is a life without Love? What is Love without Ecstasy? What is Ecstasy without a lover to rock the shxt out of my world? Just kidding (yet not really).

And Power, well… there is Power in everything, within me and all around me. In my universe, my actions, my ambitions, my transgressions, my conformity. Up until this moment, I have never felt more like a god. I am potent, dangerous, and I like it. I’ve realized that in my universe, all other external pressures and expectations are none of my goddamn business.