It used to be that I didn’t want to tell my stories behind my paintings. I didn’t want to limit the viewer from actively seeing the images for themselves. It was like looking at shapes in the clouds. Not everyone saw what I saw. That is ok when I see a fish and you see a UFO or a golden retriever.
As I painted this, I saw streets filled with blood and fire and protestors demanding justice. I saw three hundred years of pain and inequity. I feel ashamed and outraged on behalf of my black brothers and sisters. I am sickened that my daughter has to be extra careful when she leaves her house because of the color of her skin. I can not fathom the mentality that makes it necessary for us to state that black lives matter.
BLACK LIVES MATTER.