Blood Homie
- Candace Brogdon
- Oct 4, 2021
- 1 min read
Updated: Oct 16, 2021
“I was there when you shot Blood Homie in the head. Killed his ass manee” This is dialogue belonging to the birth of Blood Homie. It appears two figures levitate with the possibility of going in any direction. They are surrounded by cotton, which signifies a sort of submission to their existence and also adds a touch of comfort and foundation. This happens because the cotton covers the entirety of the image and is a soft contrast to the sharp glass that it lays on. It is a gentle reminder for the artist of everything’s temporary hold to this world. It is only for a moment. The cotton is also an ode to coming up on a cotton field while driving to Colorado with an old lover. In every direction there was cotton- as far as the eye could see- all ready to be picked. She was first to bend over and pick cotton, but I was not as quick to engage. I know for years my ancestors bleed on fields just like this one and the very thought sent fright and isolation through me. So then, I bent over and picked cotton. First thing I noticed was that there were not thorns on this cotton, which I contested more than once just as if a thornless cotton plant makes picking pounds of cotton (it) any easier..
Second thing is how thick the cotton is. Thick like wool, thick like hair. Thick like me.
Third thing- tears. Tears came to my eyes and vomit knocked at my throat.”
I am so moved by this piece and the story that accompanies it. The story, even without its painting, is a powerful, lyrical testimony -- a beautiful, terrible, rendering of a moment when personal experience meets history. And when I listen to the artist reading as I study the "two figures levitat[ing] with the possibility of going in any direction" -- in a field of cotton, a field of blood -- I feel this as a moment of reckoning.