When last I was here I clung close to my fathers side. My brother Harold the shadow I trailed. Everything was new and different. They teased us as children do. Our accents were oh so different and pure Yankee boy talk. Here now as the adult me. I stand alone surrounded by many. Settled into a comfortable wonder of the familiarity and strangeness of it all. South Florida and SA combined with a little Lagos thrown in for good measure.
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Artivist(artist +activist) uses his/her artistic talents to fight and struggle against injustice and oppression—by any medium necessary Archives
May 2017
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