Tag: travel

We Are The Monuments…

“We’ve all, at some point, walked past monuments built by others, honoring others. Why do we wait for someone else to honor our stories? What happens when we realize we are the monuments, the living, breathing proof of endurance, imagination, and grace? Our buildings aren’t just brick mortar, and glass. Our art is never just paint on a surface. They are evidence of belief and resolve that refused to fade. It’s the kind of creation that reminds us our presence is the monument, our work the foundation, and our progress the pedestal upon which our future stands.“

Some Wise Dude

                                                                                             

About a year or ago I got a call from a fella, telling me he needed a mural done on the FX Market on Pulaski Pike. Now, mind you, I used to get a lot of spam calls like that. So much so that I was advised to remove my phone number from my contact information. The gentleman on the other end was Vincent E Ford, serial entrepreneur working on a plethora of projects. He said he’d tried to reach me two years prior. We set a meeting and went from there. At our first meeting, I felt I knew him from somewhere. He tuned in to the familiarity, so we started climbing the family tree.  We did have some people in common but only by marriage. I came to know that he had a construction company, a flagging company, some housing developments, an event center in the works, and one other FX Market gas station before the one upon which he wanted the mural painted. For some reason, it didn’t take long for us to begin bantering like we were old friends. 

When he came through on the mural and shared his why, I felt better about the project. The subject matter was The Buffalo Soldiers, the U S 10th Cavalry Regiment that had camped on a hill near the FX Market site in the late 1800s because they were not allowed to stay with the white soldiers.  At first the idea of painting this on a gas station didn’t thrill me. After some consideration. I came to realize it was the best place. Besides, I’d already activated the land long before I knew who was doing something with it when I had exhumed red clay from the site.  This was people’s art and all types of people patronize gas stations. It wasn’t just about painting on a gas station, it’s creating legacy in so many ways. And this isn’t just a gas station; it’s a monument honoring monuments.

In the 1960s, according to local historians, there were at least four Black owned gas stations in the Huntsville/Madison County area. Currently, according to one study there are only four in the entire state of Alabama. Two are here in Huntsville/Madison County and Vincent Ford is the proprietor of them both. He had an idea, dreamed it up, and brought it to pass. At the end of the day, we all need gasoline, right. The first one he built is on family land in Harvest.  The other one (with the Buffalo Soldier mural) sits on Pulaski Pike across the street from Northwoods Public Housing Community where he grew up, and the namesake Historic Space after the Buffalo Soldiers, Cavalry Hill. It stands as a testament to belief beyond borders, and attitude determining altitude. What started as a request for paint on a wall between us became something bigger, a mirror held up to what’s possible when vision meets purpose. His gas stations aren’t just a business; they are a declaration that our stories belong in full color, on our own walls, in our own neighborhoods. A gentleman stopped and inquired about the FX Market gas station one day. He had heard it was Black owned. I affirmed. He smiled as he pulled off and said on repeat, “We comin’ up.” I felt his sense of pride and resolve echoed in the declaration. So if you’re reading this and haven’t gone by. Do so if for no one else but yourself. This is an investment in us. When we see what we can do, it gives us the inspiration to continue to do.

This is what happens when belief outlives circumstance. When we stop aiming for the idea of Black excellence and start setting the reality of a Black standard, where ownership, craftsmanship, and community care are the norm, not the exception. When we build, we build for generations to come. When we create, we create capacity. And when we pour into our own, the return is legacy. That mural isn’t just about art in public space. It’s about arrival. A reminder that we don’t just dream beyond our address, we redefine it.

The Magical and The Mundane

Driving out in the backcountry of Madison County, Alabama, near where I live, never disappoints. Just ahead and to my left across a field on a straight country road, the clouds had parted. Sun slivers filtered down through them like a scene from a science fiction movie. For a moment, I imagined being lifted up, joining a congregation of aliens who would send me back with all my superpowers revealed—everything suddenly feeling possible. Another thought that crossed my mind was the age-old reminder: behind every dark cloud, there’s a silver lining. It’s a comforting, almost cliché notion, but one that always gives me hope.

Yet, as I pondered these whimsical ideas, I couldn’t help but hear the voice of an old friend in my head, the one who would often point out, with a smacking of their lips, “They’re just clouds.” And maybe that’s true—maybe that’s all they are. But sometimes, I believe it’s about what we choose to see. Those clouds could be just that, or they could be the start of a story that feels as big and strange as the universe itself. It’s all in how you look at it. In the end, it’s not about whether those clouds are just clouds or something more. It’s about how we choose to see them or peel ourselves from the harsh reality of an overstuffed existence. Life is full of just ordinary moments, the mundane that we all pass by without a second thought. But within those moments, if we allow ourselves, there’s room for wonder, magic, and connection. Some cultures refer to these events as omens, others as divine whispers. It’s like the space between the clouds and the sunlight—there’s something in that gap, a glimpse of possibility, if we’re open to it.

So, maybe we’re all given little opportunities to “see” beyond the scene. Sometimes it’s a patch of light breaking through, other times, it’s simply choosing to imagine what’s not immediately visible. The mundane, when seen with the right eyes, can become something far more extraordinary. And maybe, just maybe, that’s the real magic.

Generating Light

Some time ago, I traveled to see a Thornton Dial art exhibit. Although Thornton Dial has transitioned, his work lives on as a beacon of his presence here on the planet. As a fellow Alabama artist, I am inspired by his journey. Included on the panel discussion was Lonnie Holley, another southern artist I deeply admire. It’s very important for me and my practice to seek out those whose work/life have shaped my creative journey and pushed my vision forward. As I stepped up in line and began to speak with Lonnie, I noticed another young man waiting eagerly. Lonnie continued on and conversed with me longer than any of the others before. Having been in the position of one who has stood in the space of waiting and of greeting, I wanted to be respectful of both positions.

Not wanting to take up much more than my share of his time, I decided to step back and give the waiting young man his turn. He stepped up directly to me still smiling. With an animated look of controlled excitement on his face he said, reaching out his hand, “I was waiting to to meet you.” I was a bit surprised to say the least. It felt like time paused for a moment. I had come to seek wisdom and inspiration from someone I looked up to, only to be reminded that I too, am a light for someone else.

The moment revealed to me an ever present truth: we are all torches in someone’s darkness, a lamp in another’s searching, or simple a light along their pathway. While we are busy seeking illumination to guide our own path, we are generating light that illuminates the paths of others. It’s humbling to think about the ripple effect of our actions. Every brushstroke, every step forward or back, every story we tell holds the potential to inspire someone we may never meet. Whether you’re an artist, a teacher, a parent, or simply a person striving to grow, your journey is leaving trails of light for others to follow.

I believe this is what creativity and ultimately humanity are about—connection. We are a collective constellation, each star adding brilliance to the night sky. The world doesn’t just need one blazing sun; it needs the combined glow of every light bearer sharing their radiance. Keep shining, I say. Keep creating. Keep living authentically or at least pushing toward it. You never know who might be waiting to meet you, or who might already be watching and drawing strength from your light. We are all part of this dynamic, magnanimous, cosmic exchange of inspiration. When we create and share, we generate light—not just for ourselves, but for a world so in need of it.

Shoutout: The New Huntsville City Hall Art

Over a year ago, I won a commission to do one of the key art pieces in the new City Hall. A few weeks ago we completed the install. My art piece is entitled Miracle Territory. I understand the gravity of this assignment as City Hall is the administrative hub of a city – the center ring around which all other entities revolve. The Huntsville City Hall has now extended beyond a symbol of governance and community pride but one of cultural relevance. My intent and purpose are to broaden that sense of community to even the most marginalized among us. Us, referring to that eccentric child who can’t seem to find a place for his ideas to land or that teen who dropped out of school and their today is overshadowed by yesterday’s clouds, the hardworking father who never went past the third grade, or the elder who thinks it’s too late to make good on that dream. I use the term us on purpose because to me there is no them. There’s only us, and the rest of us.

Art is a leveling ground, a proverbial foot of the cross.  It doesn’t require a master’s degree, a certification a six-figure salary or even a strong knowledge of the craft to be appreciated. Ultimately, creativity is a communal act. This project called upon many hands, hearts, and heads beyond those of the artists. The entire effort was in itself a well orchestrated act of creative innovation. Art is a universal language. That language is soul speak. Soul speak goes to the bedrock of who we are as human beings, to that sacred connection we share as sentient beings on the planet. It’s a lifeblood bond.  As writer Joyce Carol Oates says, “We are linked by blood and blood is memory without language.”  It goes deeper than skin, class, creed, color, bank balance, or whether you’re for Auburn, Alabama, Democrat, Republican, crust or no crust.  

In this painting, I set out to tell a story – a story of a journey of souls, with each one of those having their own life path. Paths connected through a backdrop of southern red clay on this bright spot on the map called Huntsville, Alabama. She pulls back the veil recounting the past to shore up the present for the future. This city we call the star of Alabama – A star in the north, Alabama, that can lead the rest of the state, the region, and maybe even the nation to a new level of freeness. We have that much potential. Let’s make that energy kinetic. This city went from red dust to star dust…from the mundane to the miraculous. That’s a divine activation of the deepest strands of human potential.  This city, padded with red clay fortified with the blood of our ancestors, is truly miracle territory.