1. "Curious about his connection, I googled "Jean-Michel Basquiat", and with each page of search results, I found dynamic, extraordinary paintings that fused text and image. I thought, I've found the Black Warhol! Then, it occurred to me: How did I know about Andy Warhol and not know about "the black Warhol"? ...How many more versions of my favorite artists were there? (JMB is absolutely not "the black Warhol"--as I naively thought--nor are there "black versions" of non-Black artist. He was an artist in his own lane, much like the other people that..." (18-19)
This is something I think a lot of people say and don't have the awareness to have a second thought of. I have thought this about latino artists and as a latina artist, it brings the question also if someone might look at me or my work someday and think something similar. I think it also creates this pressure in poc to be excellent or try to reach this state of perfection and uniqueness in our work so it stands out or can be recognized, and while this propels us to continue to work hard its important to recognize that how much harder we are already working just to be in the sphere of art.
2. "I did not want to be like everyone else at the museum. I loved wearing glitter-covered sneakers and letting my locs bounce around as I went from meeting to meeting. I did not want to fit in. I also didn't want the museum to be monolithic in that way." (53-54)
I just related very much to this quote, or I feel like a younger version of myself definitely would've. I found relief in this quote also because it feels like hopefully as more and more young people are entering the workforce, more arbitrary rules or ideas on what it means to be a professional in a field are changing to accommodate the people. I also found this important because the author found a way to incorporate her true self into her work identity, and how she isn't afraid of letting this affect her professional outlook because its ultimately the work you do and not what you look like.
3. "In this book, I had a personal goal of writing a tribute to my anger. I wanted to share a few moments that have shaped me as an activist and as a proudly angry Black person who has loved art for as long as they can remember. There was a point in my career where I feared my anger. I feared that my anger would scare others. But look back, I know without a doubt that I have the right to be mad on these pages and out in the world. This being true, on the other hand, my story is not wholeheartedly about anger and could never be. My story is also about generosity. It's about the things that artists and friends teach us and how we employ them in our own lives." (59-60)
This quote probably hit me the hardest out of them all because I feel as though I have only recently become aware of my anger and the ways that it can be used, but as well as the ways that it serves a purpose for the greater good, or can be used for something greater than yourself which is what artists and activists do alike when serving their communities.
Kimberly Drew Blog
Senga Nengudi R.S.V. P , 1975, The Museum of Contemporary Art, Los Angeles
Using store bought nylon pantyhose filled with sand, knotted, stretched, and pinned to the wall are the pieces done by Senga Nengudi. It is meant to represent limbs, and commonly sexualized features like breasts and or bottom, but also because of its positioning in this dramatic suspension. Supposed to depict a black female body.
I enjoy that these pieces seem also begging to be looked at or to have an audience, and the title "please respond" essentially, also had be intrigued, as the artist is hyper-aware of this. It's something that follows in all her art, as these pieces are in this tense and dramatic moment, they are sexualized but it's with this uncanny valley that draws you in but also repels you.
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