Come fly under with us
Come dive into the salt sun
Become the glittering wings
Beyond the clouds
Beneath the moving sand
Be the ripples of Bouladjel
Be the tides of infinite passage…
by David Gumbs
This new work is an invitation to wonder : what if our ancestors talked to us through dances of light and shadows ? What if their voices have transcend the middle passage revealing untold stories ?
“Listen more often to Things than to Beings,
Hear the voice of fire,
Hear the voice of water.
Listen in the wind,
To the bush that is sobbing :
It is the breath of ancestors.”
Those who are dead are not ever gone;
They are in the darkness that grows lighter
And in the darkness that grows darker.
The dead are not down in the earth;
They are in the trembling of the trees
In the groaning of the woods,
In the water that runs,
In the water that sleeps,
They are in the hut, they are in the crowd:
The dead are not dead.
…
by Birago Diop
This poem captures the essence of the new directions in David’s work. One where shadows are not shadows. And light is endless whispers.
More information about the process coming soon.