Description
This work was birth out of a nagging within. The imagery came to me and cried out to be brought forth. Thoughts on Harriet Tubman running through weeds on her way to freedom came to mind. Layers emerged as I began to create. My mind turned to the restrictions placed on black and brown people every day. Where can we go without question, where we are not allowed to tread? The spaces in which one must continually look over their shoulder become more prevalent than not. And just where is this freedom? Where it is ok to exhale and relax your shoulders, allowing your bare feet a chance to walk through grass? Slavery never ended and slaves get their feet cut off if they run too far. Do you ever get a chance to stroll and meander through the grassy knoll or is life full of running on cracked concrete, stepping over broken glass and weeds that poke through cement? My longing
