Separating the Art from the Artist

Separating art from artist has always been difficult for me. I almost consider them to be the same thing. After all, there is not one without the other. And even if the two could exist separately in my mind, I would still see the creation as a sort of extension of the creator.

If I do not like the artist as a person, it is likely that I will not like or support the art. And vice versa. There are so many extremely talented artists that I don't support because of their character/behavior/morals or lack thereof. I could fall in love with a painting but would not buy it if the painter was homophobic. I mean, if Solange (my spirit animal), were to make racist comments, I couldn't listen to her music anymore. And she's my spirit animal. However, I feel like work that comes from the mind, heart, and soul of someone hateful is tainted by that hate and weighed down with negative energy. And regardless of who that artist is, or what they create, I'm not capable of overlooking that.

But a lot of people I know are not like this.

For example -- Many of my friends are absolutely sickened by the fact that Chris Brown ever even considered putting his hands on Rihanna. They're disgusted by his rampages and tired of hearing about him being in and out of court. But they still buy his music simply because they see it as unrelated to his character. They do not like Chris Brown but do like Chris Brown's work. For another example, there are a lot of young girls that I've (unfortunately) stumbled upon on Twitter who overlook Justin Bieber's destructive and even racist behavior because he's cute. Because he's cute. (I wonder -- would Jim Crow laws still be in place if he had only been blessed with better genes?)

I can't do that.

Of course I don't expect artists to be perfect. I don't expect anyone to be perfect. And I understand that art is flawed and thrives in darkness and sorrow and even hatred; that it often comes from bad places. But I do not believe that art can come from "bad" people, or bad intentions.

On Blogging

The best thing about having a blog is also the worst thing about having a blog -- people always expect you to have something to say. And so, when something big happens, people flock to you for your opinion on it. I love this and I hate this.

Running my own blog has put my voice out there in a way far more effective than I expected. (The fact that people actually read this is insane to me.) Because I blog mainly about my opinions and thoughts on social issues, societal norms, etc., people look to me for reactions to a lot of what's going on in the world.

I love this, because it's led to so many great conversations with so many great people. I love that people feel like I may have something even remotely relevant to say, or that they feel like I could contribute to an intellectual or stimulating conversation. These talks have both strengthened my belief in something and led to me completely changing my mind. I have learned so much from these discussions, and I am extremely grateful to have been part of them.

But I hate it, because sometimes, I have nothing to say. Of course, I'm always willing to simply listen in on the discussion. And when I do this I learn and gain lots of knowledge and understanding. The problem is that a lot of the time, people want me to chime in. But when you ask me how I feel about yet another innocent black teenager being gunned down by the police, there is nothing I can say. I can't talk to you about the slaughter of children. I cannot talk to you about vicious hate crimes against the LGBT community.

I know I'm opinionated and rarely hesitant to participate in a good conversation, but I just have no words for certain situations. I'll have thoughts, opinions, ideas... just no way to form them in a way that anyone else will understand. Some things just hit too hard for me to articulate my feelings about them.

"Artsy White Girl Shit"

So my cousins from out of town came to visit for the weekend. They came into my room and looked around. Looked at the art and photography I have hanging up; looked at my collection of magazines; looked at the corkboard on the wall by my bookshelf and one asked, "So... what's up with all this... artsy... white girl shit?".

Artsy white girl shit.

The others laughed and agreed. Apparently, I was trying to be white.

It made me feel the exact same way I feel when people tell me that I "talk/act" white. Is speaking proper English a behavior that is reserved for white people? Along with reading, and writing, and now, being into art?

Believing that I have no business being interested in or appreciative of art, simply because I'm black is absurd. My melanin does not contribute to my interests at all. And even if the fact that I'm black did matter, it would only give me more of a reason to love art.

Black people are and  have been major contributors to the art world. From ancient African art, to the Harlem Renaissance, to the Hip Hop movement, to the works of present day. We've had a significant impact on fine art, photography, music, literature, film and dance. To suggest that art, and the appreciation of art, is exclusively for white people is ridiculous. I cannot stress the importance of black people's participation in the arts. We help push the limits and revolutionize art.

Like is it even possible to make a list of artistic, black geniuses? Should I even try? Is there even enough time to finish such an extensive list? I mean there's Maya Angelou, Simmie Knox, Spike Lee, Faith Ringgold. There's Henry Ossawa Tanner, Smokey Robinson, Lauryn Hill, Alice Walker, Jimmy Hendrix, Lorna Simpson, James Van Der Zee, Lee Daniels. There's Horace Pippin, Louis Armstrong, Erykah Badu, Jill Scott. There's Forest Whitaker, Toni Morrison, Mos Def, Talib Kweli, Langston Hughes, Ruby Dee, Sidney Poitier. Jean-Michel Basquiat, Stevie Wonder, Lorraine Hansberry, Ernest Gaines, Gordon Parks, etc., etc., etc. I could go on and on and on.

And literally all other races have been major contributors, too.

Art is not a "white" thing. Art is a human thing.

Light Skin Is The Right Skin ("Colorism")

Black women, in case you weren't aware, your value is determined by your skin tone. Women with light skin at the top of the pyramid, women with dark skin at the bottom.

Why? Obviously because the light-skinned girl has all of the right qualities for the black male (the wavy hair, the light eyes, etc.). She is close enough to white without being controversial. The light-skinned woman has just enough melanin to have a bit of kink in her hair and sway in her step. This keeps anyone from starting the interracial couple conversation.

Members of the African-American community, and only members of the African-American community, praise light-skinned women. And it's not like we're just noting their beauty. Because that'd be okay. But we are also shaming women with darker skin. Their skin is "too" dark; their curls "too" tight. We are treating them as if they are less than. Young black men will discriminate against women that have the exact same skin tone as their mothers and sisters. And it's sad.

Being an African American woman, who is not light-skinned, I can honestly say that my brown skin is a burden. I am never beautiful; just "cute for dark-skinned girl". My hair is never "good" hair; just "pretty good for a dark-skinned girl's". My best will only ever be mediocre in the eyes of other black people, simply because of my skin tone.

I don't know when or why dark skin became something to hate, or to be ashamed of. (Especially when white people tan, but we won't get into that.) And I definitely don't know when or why it was okay to divide ourselves based on skin tone. If I see another "#TeamLightskin/#TeamDarkskin" or "brown skin girls are winning" tweet, I may lose my mind. No other race in the world has created distinction within itself based on skin tone. It's pointless. Especially when we're all the same to everyone else in the world. Other races don't really see a specific tone, all black is the same to them. So why isn't it to us?

Hopefully soon we'll realize that we're all beautiful, light-skinned and dark-skinned. Beauty comes in all shapes, sizes, and colors. It's based on so much more than the pigmentation of your skin. Your skin tone will only ever determine your beauty or worth if you let it.

Moral Absolutism

There is no such thing as absolute good or absolute evil. The two coexist. There is both light and darkness in all of us. The only exceptions (if you are religious) are God/Jesus and Satan. Everyone else is woven together with both good and bad. That's what makes us human.

Someone is always eager to remind us of the fact that Martin Luther King Jr. cheated on his wife, as if this cancels out the theory that he was a great man. Adultery obviously counteracts every positive thing he did. He can't be both a hero and a sinner.

There's always someone who points out that many of our former presidents had slaves, so they must have all been bad men. Their contributions to the most prosperous nation in the world are all irrelevant, because of a single (but huge) character flaw.

We see a picture of Hitler with a little girl on his lap and cringe. How could Hitler have a gentle moment?

We always want to see things in black and white; right and wrong; good and bad. The truth is, it's never that simple. Even the saints do bad things and think bad thoughts every now and then. Even the monsters can be pleasant and caring at times. That's humanity. It's just the way we are. Our blood is as pure as it is poisonous. The best and worst of us all meet somewhere.

Poem: "Collected"

I wanted to share another poem. Thanks to my friend, the talented poet and musician, Tre'don, for titling it.

You always smelled
Like Doublemint gum
And stale cigarettes.
You said you wore all black
Because it made you feel powerful.
And you never combed your hair
Because you didn't have the time,
For there were memories to be made.
You always spoke too fast
And hugged me too tight,
But I didn't mind.
When we met you told me
That you collected stars.
I thought it was
So silly,
So ridiculous
To believe that you could
Own something
That belonged to the gods,
To the universe,
To the world.
But now that I think about it,
I did consider
You
To be mine.

Jaylin



Click to visit Tre'don's Youtube page.

Writer's Block

Writer's block (aka: Satan)

I want to write. I want to write something profound, and thought-provoking. I'd love to just get lost in my writing, like I have so many times before but I just can't.

And I have so many things I want to write about. There are so many things I have to say. Ideas are always coming to me (even when I wish they'd stop so I can sleep).

But lately, every time I pick up a pen, it's like I don't even know how  to write. It's like I haven't even learned how to form letters yet, let alone sentences.

It's excruciating. It's like having something trapped deep inside you. It's in your mind, your soul, it is a part of you that you cannot express. And you try. You try so hard to put it on paper and get it outside of you. But you fail. And the idea haunts you. It becomes all you think about. You play with it. You twist it, and turn it, like a loose tooth. And just like a loose tooth, you can mess around with it all you want, but if it's not coming out, it's not coming out.

(Writer's block has actually gotten so bad for me, that the only thing I actually can write about is writer's block.)

I'm going to go torture myself some more now, and maybe I'll have a paragraph by the end of the night.

Wish me luck.