Friday, February 1, 2008
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
Sunday, December 2, 2007
SHANNA.SAND.SAUL WILLIAMS
SHANNA!!!!!
sand
sand
is the remnants of rocks
broken by tides
and dried
into someone else's paradise
sanding their experience
so life is smooth
while you are crushed
and feel nothing anymore
i don't want to be a rock
Copyright ©2007 Shanna Melton
SAUL WILLIAMS=AMAZING
SAUL WILLIAMS PERFORMING IN FRONT OF SHANNA'S ART!!!!!
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Amiri & Ameenah Baraka
Shanna & Amiri Baraka...He has so much heart!!
Shanna & Ameenah Baraka...She is an amazing poet and beautiful woman...it was a pleasure to be in her company.
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
I know I am living when...
I know I am living when I am sharing my art, poetic and visual. This was a great moment!!!
How I Began Painting Boxes
How I Began Painting Boxes
There was a kitchen appliance store on the corner of my street when I was younger. My father would walk me to there every Saturday to choose an empty refrigerator box. I remember thinking he was so strong carrying that big box on his back and walking all the way home.
He would put it in the back yard and get out his box cutter so he could cut an I on two sides and a door that he would open for me. I ran inside and pushed out the windows he cut, and then we would look at each other and smile. “Go get your paint,” he would say, and I did.
I painted flowers under the windows, a window on the door, bricks and birds, and my cat at the bottom waiting to come inside. Then I would move my dolls in and we would play. We had a home until the rain came and it was time for a new box.
Saturday morning trips became a ritual until the winter came and it was too cold to build a home. That is how I began painting boxes.
There was a kitchen appliance store on the corner of my street when I was younger. My father would walk me to there every Saturday to choose an empty refrigerator box. I remember thinking he was so strong carrying that big box on his back and walking all the way home.
He would put it in the back yard and get out his box cutter so he could cut an I on two sides and a door that he would open for me. I ran inside and pushed out the windows he cut, and then we would look at each other and smile. “Go get your paint,” he would say, and I did.
I painted flowers under the windows, a window on the door, bricks and birds, and my cat at the bottom waiting to come inside. Then I would move my dolls in and we would play. We had a home until the rain came and it was time for a new box.
Saturday morning trips became a ritual until the winter came and it was too cold to build a home. That is how I began painting boxes.
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