This is Fireflies in Harlem. I can’t accurately describe what I feel from this. Joy comes close. ‘Closeness’ is, well, close, too. 

There’s a whole community in here that's built on stoop-sitting. This piece vibes; not ‘vibrates’ in the pseudo-spiritual language but vibes in the way of, “I get you and imma hold you and yours right here in the canyon of concrete and a six pack on a not-yet-too-hot city night and bless you with fireflies in the place there aren’t supposed to be any” vibe. 

There’s probably some Coltrane and Davis behind the door and DMC from down the street both filtered through humidity and the smells of cooking. 

Infused in this piece is some Lucille Clifton:
in the inner city
or
like we call it
home
we think a lot about uptown 
and the silent nights
and the houses straight as
dead men
and the pastel lights
and we hang onto our noplace 
happy to be alive 
and in the inner city
or
like we call it
home 

16 x 20” $425.00 including shipping (in the US)

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