It’s never too late for Sugar– right? Took me much longer than what I wanted but in between life and trying to stretch the limits of WordPress capabilities (aargh!) and compromising in the end, I finished my “Dreams Deferred” Portfolio Page about month or so ago. Now, it’s only my excuse of finally coming around to posting about it :-). For those of you who couldn’t make the exhibit while it was up and running in Raleigh, here’s a sneak peak.
‘Dreams Deferred‘ inspired by the Langston Hughes’ poem ‘Harlem’ was a collaborative exhibit with me and another local artist, Ariyah Chambers April. Langston was the first poet or serious poet (if you don’t count Disney or Dr. Seuss :-) ) that I was introduced to and learned as a 3rd grader in Mrs. Slater class — his “Mother to Son” poem to be exact. Last year, I was researching Hughes poems especially his poem, “I, Too, Am America” and exploring ideas around this placement in today’s times when the opportunity to collaboratively work on a documentary project and exhibit with Ariyah came about. Hughes’ ‘Harlem’ poem seemed and was a perfect fit and we were selected for the “Visual Art Exchange – The Lab” Gallery Juried Show!
“Dreams Deferred,” titled from Langston Hughes’ poem “Harlem,” is a photography-and writing-based storytelling project examining what becomes of a dream and the people behind them. We profiled six dreamers and alongside their profiles, our exhibit featured an interactive and evolving installation collecting the community’s contributions over the course of the exhibit. All visitors were encouraged to record their own dreams on a piece of the installation (floating cloud) inviting the viewer to bear witness externally, and to reflect internally.
To learn more about the Documentary Project and hear the stories of the 3 dreamers that I profiled as part of the exhibit, visit my ‘Dreams Deferred’ portfolio page. Also, below take a peak at some of the images of our Exhibit Opening and Gallery Show.
BY LANGSTON HUGHES
What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore–
and then run?
Does it stink like a rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over–
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?
Behind the Scenes – Sneak Peak of Exhibit Opening and Gallery