to feel my buried magic
until I saw it
as beautiful as a star,
at home in her precious dark.
This poem is linked to Imaginary Gardens with Real Toads' Tuesday Platform.
Liner Notes for this Groove: When I was a kid, I didn’t see myself too often in art, and not at all in the fantastical imagery I loved so much. There’s a lot that’s wrong with this era we live in, no question. But some of the little joys are seeing a.) the rise of indie artists and b.) that more and more of them feature women of color.
This isn’t something I like discussing too much at all, but I will say that when I was young, I was often reminded features like mine were not the ideal. So when I see pretty art celebrating looks like mine, I kind of have to buy it. Part of me feels a little vain for indulging in it, but the part of me that’s still an awkward 9-year-old girl is over the moon. Natasha Porter once said, “If life is a cup of tea, gratitude is the honey that makes it sweet.” I’m very grateful for these bits of beauty in a world that really needs it.
|Art work by Don Martin.|
You can purchase more of his fantastical art in his Etsy and Red Bubble shop.
Follow him on Facebook or Instagram.
Song Choice: Soy Yo by Bomba Estéreo