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Human will is a particularly powerful magic. Alchemy happens when a person truly decides something; when a mind is changed.
When Paris was changing, when Spain was in civil war, when Los Angeles was on fire, when drugs decimated her city—what did people do? They made art about it. Art unlike anything that had come before. Jay-Z, in her opinion, was no different than Picasso; Nas, on par with Manet. She studied, in class, the history of the world through the eyes of artists. She felt, in her soul, that what she was witnessing with hip-hop was some of the most inventive artists in history documenting the culture of her time.
“Do you feel intimidated by women taking up more space in the art world?” What fucking space? I thought. We were given the corners men deemed too dark and dusty. “How do you think the softness of women’s work helps to reinforce the linearity of men’s art practices?” Who the fuck said women’s art existed to do or say anything about male art practices?
Because I realized in that moment that this guy’s art form wasn’t sculpture, it was bullshit.
Sure, it was all a bit dramatic. But you know what? I’m a bit dramatic.
She wondered if perhaps the difference between youth and middle age was not simply having gray hair or stubble but wearing the pretense of having it together.
It was subtle and alluring and I wondered often if the students and professors passing would ever notice they were crossing over a woman’s back. Almost appreciated that they might not realize it. It felt poetic, since people use women’s backs as bridges every day without ever thinking twice.
No, when I looked in his eyes, what I saw was the most dangerous thing of all in a man: insecurity. Because they will crawl over and push down anyone around them in their desperate thrashing to find themselves comfortably affirmed at the top.
