Deep by the association of mind. But have a fetish for explanation that perhaps to be written in a literature's measure...Written in contrast; capturing the pictures of my “ subjects” but as far as me being the artist. I’m trying to observe every true fact that surrounds every black & white image. Still after 47 odd years of death; I still live through the minds && history of today. As the world critique my visions; the depth of my complicated mind.. But yet I still live through the youth of spoken words.. As my ashes remain beneath the spirits of Harlem.. But better yet I’m awaking every time a noun is distinguished with a plural referent. I’m awaking every time a vowel is formed amongst a carbon copy of paper, with the ink bleeding for ventilation.. You know, so your mind can be free of sorrow. I’m awaking every time a song is sung lyrically && spoke publicly to the world. Honestly I can’t remember the last time a Poet wrote && my spirit wasn’t there to guide them to a appropriate stanza; word after word, stanza after stanza I’m awaking by the creativity; by every artist brilliance.. Better yet, I’m fascinating by a lot of artist originality; with that said every artist has a little Langston Hughes in them seeing that I am one of a few that they to look up too..
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