We want to be brave. We want to face the fear and not run for once. We want that when the convulsions start, despite them we will be able to press on into life and living whatever each would demand. While our minds explain to us that the peace and tranquility we long for so …
Continue reading "The artist’s moratorium; the Human’s moratorium"
Beauty. Sight. Its subject. The object. The best and most beautiful things in life are too far and too extricated from us; so intangible, so transient, so ethereal, they are known because they are felt and only felt because of the consequence of their beauty- the glorious, numinous state of an impermanent human prosperity. Yet …
Continue reading "The human moratorium; sedation by uninspiration."
Why the art I make? People have always called my music different for so many reasons. Sometimes its too intense, too depressing, sounds too “white and western” or just generally isn’t an identifiable sound resembling all the other music going on in Uganda at this time. This has always made me uncomfortable because I am …
Why the art that is made? Humans have been making art for some time and continue to do so. But why? Where did this all begin? What purposes begun this apart from the reasons we know that sustain it? From the backdrop of the last entry, and amidst so much more that wasn't necessarily articulated …
Why the art you make? Why just the amount of art you make as well? Why the way you make the art you make? Why not like the other artist? Why? So many people ask me why I don't do more with my art. Why don't you write more? Why don't you sing more? Why …
Pseudo Beautiful- Quasi cute; A Kind of Beautiful A "hey, wassap! whatchu do?" would maybe suffice. But asking if my braids are real is so not nice. Oh. Of all the first things that could come out of your mouth. So yes, Ok. I do. I kind of have an accent. But it's because I …
Abrasive love content; Unrequitement Maybe it's not fair that I loved you but you didn't love me. Maybe I don't want to remember all we said to never not forget we would always be. Maybe it's too late to return to all that we were. Maybe I'm too pissed that you let it all be …
Darkest light; dark light. You'd think something living is alive. You'd see light and wonder in awe of its sight. Yet, I have learnt that things are not as they all would seem; It's weird that the darkest things shine brighter than you'd' ever believe. You'd think someone singing would make a sound, But lately …
"If you don't believe in yourself, whatever you are doing is for no reason." BIBI BOURELLY. For so long and for so many reasons, I didn't believe in Ugandan art. I deemed it unsuccessful on so many fronts and for so many reasons; with what it had to say, with the seemingly narrow construction of …
Continue reading "Max Bwire; her art; a pleasantly vicarious human existence"
"Every portrait that is painted with feeling is a portrait of the artist, not the sitter." OSCAR WILDE. I am continuously drawn to believe that art is and has always been a story, an expression and a language, more to do with the artist than those that spectate the process of its formation, or …
Continue reading "Paula Nyangabyaki; her art; silent evocations of internal revolution"
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