|sεnduQ|
mind entropy of the ethiofricanArchive for creativity
Yell-o nailpolish
did she know? she got a sticker stuck on her,
in a box with labels pressed to hips.
they read a sign on her forehead
in bright orange sharpie scribble
did you know? or you imagined?
yellow nail polish on fingertips and toes.
even as paint flakes where paint cracks…
messy dry dribbles on toe tips
speak out bright loudness in yell-o
tears… despite smudges of eyeliner smearing
crying out speaking
drawing lines on eye lids
dulled shades of dark. shades of sad.
shades of thoughts.
echoes resounding
screams bouncing
on the afro, nail polish, tear smudges.
pent up breath explodes
release me
release. let be
and you, with raised eyebrows and crinkled lips
shrink mignon!
Closeted Artist
do you remember?
pencil and paper
There were days the pencil wants to do nothing but make love to that paper…paper from the ‘agenda’…from that coveted hardcover planner of the commercial bank of ethiopia.
Those days flakes of black graphite smudge on off-white papers with abandon … contact leads to gradients of smudge and a deliberate set of slowly materializing scratches…focused dots and translucent shades. squinting eyes. In this unwitting rumba of an interplay, the artist is in the zone, an outside observer.
I found my agenda recently, here are scribblings from 10th grade.
I was a closeted artist who sat in class and drew caricatures of my classmates and teachers. Instead of paying attention, I was on the prowl for irritating teachers and rebelling from their expectations…because that was what we do…
It did not occur to me i could actually pursue it. It felt comfortable being ‘good enough’, and lauded by others. I made variety my forte…an expertise. It was all like a sprinkle of swank…With the worth given art in the society and what i thought was the mediocrity of the art i produced… didn’t believe I had the authority to claim a peg: Artist.
Looking back, it was frustrating when I couldn’t fulfill misses art teacher’s biddings and replicate nature in photo-copy mode. And for the love of destiny- there always were those kids much more talented, it seemed, always effortlessly scratching together unearthly creations while… I… busily nursed growing pains, cramps and coughs trying to be creative – writing, drawing …
’seeped in mediocrity!’ an amusing thought, without really trying to develop…?
identity…creativity
Trying to explain all this… grappling with perplexities that tease the society I grew up in, I peg part of a stunted creativity on a conformist culture. how much does creativity develop in a conformist society? Where is the space for ‘being different’ …?… a space that encourages exploring individuality, personality…. self-expression? In some ways… living in Ethiopia resembles growing up in a training ground for peggers and cliques.
Meanwhile,
Hi! My name is tpeace. I thank you for not pegging me.
non-nonchalance:conundrum shift
And then there are incredible stories that knock u right out of your daily conundrum!
Have you ever heard the bizzaro idea about creativity being the most potent weapon individuals have against war?? I thought it was a bit too ‘happily ridiculous’ at first…until closer consideration… Ever heard people say “necessity is the mother of innovation.”? Well, Wednesday’s news made me say: “hell ya!”
The quirky reflection that came to my mind reading the news goes…
“”It is in creativity, in the fashioning of self and world, that people find their most potent weapon against war.”
…1st, let me meander to a tiny bit of intro….I first stumbled upon this bizarre concept in Carolyn Nordstrom’s “A different kind of war story” on her experience in the devastating 16-year-long civil war of Mozambique. As an anthropologist, she reflects on the messy nitty-gritties of war, civil society intricacies and the trajectories of individual lives…yadi yada…
nyways, she says “……ultimately, war victims have taught me, violence is about the destruction of culture and identity in a bid to control/crush political will.” She saw human condition at its ‘lowest’, when people were helpless, vicious, greedy, desperate and deeply disturbed. According to her “It is often in what we relegate to the margins of life process and theory [violence and the unspeakable] that speaks most fundamentally about core aspects of human existence.”
i think it’s real; in times of war people have very few choices. when they are caught in the most devastating corner of all, they either create ways to survive, maintain their humanities and fight back…or get sucked in to becoming helpless puppets which push the gears of a viscous ‘war industry’.
According to the book, some resistance tools toward survival & peace include communities, creative expression and non-violence…
Here’s the true story that hit the headlines. I’m applauding these brave souls who stepped up for the community, regardless of the side they are on! in breaking rules to find solutions, they were indeed innovating a path away from the mainstream…
“Ethiopian troops in Somalia’s capital, Mogadishu, have distributed food aid bought with their own salaries. About 400 bags of sorghum were handed out to about 500 people in southern Baynile district. An Ethiopian soldier said his colleagues had organised the collection to help their neighbours in need.
Ethiopian troops, who support Somalia’s interim government, are not popular and the food was accepted with surprise, the BBC’s Mohamed Moalimuu reports. The UN says more than a third of all Somalis rely on outside assistance and the urban poor are finding it difficult to get enough to eat.
p.s. how does it freakin make sense not to have the word ‘chalance’ when there is ‘nonchalance’!?
