Here I am at this cafe called Revolution in the mission district....
I walk in feeling a bit anxious, now this nothing new at all. As a matter of fact IM anxious most of the time, even when IM sleeping. I am conscious that it even borders on being paranoid. But I received confirmation today that IM not to far gone..
I haven't started talking to myself, out loud...Yet...
I only do that while IM alone and the blinds are shut tightly...
So as I was "pontificating" I walk in and the place is mellow and dimly lit..Supreme...
The walls were adorned with whispers of An African displaced...Or misplaced or replaced...Relative/subjective..You choose.
but I liked the feeling of feeling like I am relevant, not as if I did the work myself. Or as if anyone said anything or did anything in particular to make me feel special or even less anxious. But the work made reference to my distinct cultural illusion...You know African-American etc...

This artist is well acquainted with the SAMO Mojo...And believe it or not history, racism, sociology, the boundless cultural roller-coasters of it...it being the illusion of race and its impact on you...And me...And them and we...

to be cont'd.....