top of page

Amiri Rose

  • fominaphotoart
  • Mar 18, 2018
  • 2 min read

Photographer

Photography, Art Direction, Digital Photography

Portland, OR, USA

This is my artist statement for this work: Red is too hot and yellow is too bright, so we find ourselves Black & blue. If Black men surpass any temperature above 98.6 degrees (outside of illness), a plethora of stigmas (mostly negative), follow us as if they’re our own children. Too passionate and we’re misunderstood and or feared. Too loud and we’re angry and or threatening. Too silent and we’re forgotten and or disenfranchised. We can’t be red. As Black boys and men, the fear of how great we can be, is institutionally layered into our consciousness and sub-consciousness. Most of us experientially believe we can only be great to a point, and rules aren’t meant to be broken without sacrifices or fatal consequences. Dave Chappelle put it simply, “Know who’s the most uncomfortable motherfucker in the room? The nigga that is right.” Why are so many of us scared or lack the constitutional belief to be our best selves? Because we’re waiting for the truths of the se United States of America to demote us back into our “so-called” place. We can’t be yellow. Black men must live in a constant state of “Black & Blue.” Externally Black and eternally blue. On the color wheel blue is associated with depth and stability. It symbolizes trust, loyalty, wisdom, confidence, intelligence, faith, truth, and heaven. Blue is considered beneficial to the mind, body, and produces a calming effect, the exact opposite of what the aforementioned colors represent. The fact that Black men have had to exist in this duality is nothing new. The purpose of this photography is to associate the primary color (blue,) toward the survival as a Black men and boys in today’s United States of America.


Recent Posts

See All

Recent posts

  • Black Facebook Icon
  • Black Twitter Icon
  • Black Pinterest Icon
  • Black Instagram Icon
  • Black Flickr Icon
  • Black Vkontakte Icon
  • Black Odnoklassniki Icon

© 2017 by  Catherine Mikhailov

bottom of page