KRISTA FRANKLIN
“Through the poems that I write, I seek to forge a path in the wilderness of the human experience…” – Krista Franklin
Poet and visual artist Krista Franklin’s work openly reveals the subjectivity of the processing of human experience. In some ways it highlights the relevance of the creative process that takes place within all human beings whether or not we choose to express it. Through its artistic expression of the science of the mind, senses and spirit, her work makes sense of the wilderness by simply being present.
(Images: Krista Franklin, The Beautiful Dance, 2007, mixed media and it’s tricky (r.i.p. JMJ), 2007, mixed media)
Franklin’s writing and collage work express her own particular poetic that dips in and out of connection with the collective via moments of shared symbolism and experience. It’s almost as if her work paints with image and word a grid of moments that can be connected like dots on a map. Moments that ultimately reveal we each walk our own path of perception. It is clear that impressions, whether verbal, visual or sensual, drive the Franklin aesthetic. Interestingly, she manages to create a most subtle distinction between impression and statement. Her main subject/image is bold enough to stand out in each piece, but becomes less objectified when considered in relations to its surrounding matter thus revealing, the instability of objectivity and the reality of subjectivity.
(Image: Krista Franklin, Transatlantic Turntable-ism, mixed media. from Callaloo‘s Hip Hop issue.)
The larger implications of Franklin’s art practice speak to the spiritual and metaphysical realm in the sense of finding peace with the unknown. Making a commitment to explore and participate in the experience of life from the vantage point of surrender. Her practice also suggests one’s opinion is simply one’s opinion, one’s taste is simply one’s taste and thus, one’s experience is simply one’s experience. Live it deeply or miss the hidden bounty of life.
(Image: Lillian Bertram, Krista Franklin, 2008)
Krista Franklin’s poetry and visual art have most recently appeared in RATTLE, Indiana Review, Ecotone, Clam, Callaloo, MiPOesias.com, and the anthology Gathering Ground. Her mixed-media collages have been published on the covers of award-winning books, and she has exhibited nationally in solo and group exhibitions. Franklin is also a Cave Canem Fellow, and the co-founder of 2nd Sun Salon, a community meeting space for writers, visual and performance artists, musicians and scholars.
__________________________
A Natural History of
My Drapetomania
Text and Art by Krista Franklin
"Drapetomania #2", Mixed Medium, Krista Franklin
* * *
In 1851 Lousiana physician Samuel A. Cartwright introduced America to a theory that he thought would serve to explain the aberrant behavior of black slaves “absconding from service.” He called the “disease” of those who sought to flee captivity drapetomania and outlined the symptoms and treatments in his essay “Diseases and Peculiarities of the Negro Race.” Dr. Cartwright suggested reinforcing the subservience of the black slave to his white slaveholder to treat the disease. He prescribed treating the black slave like a child and by delivering sound beatings only in the cases of those persistently afflicted slaves as the cure for this pesky mental ailment—the desire to be free.
Nearly 130 years after Cartwright kicked the bucket, a cracking, black and white photograph of my 18-month-old mother falls under my gaze. The picture, small and curling at its white-bordered corners, shows the back of my tiny mother barely walking, moving away from the camera, the hem of her baby dress haphazardly tucked into the top of her diaper. One foot hovers precariously off the ground; she is in the throes of movement.
“This is the day she ran away from home,” my grandmother says, giggling at her first daughter’s blossoming desire to escape.
* * *
Not nearly as advanced as my predecessor, around eleven I begin to push my body against the neighborhood’s borders, roaming into woods along paths past thickets. Even as fear rides piggyback and my nostrils flare like a deer’s at the scent of the unknown, I press on across fallen leaves; errant branches scrape my arms, a phantom sound, someone behind me. I spend minutes like I spend money, squatting at the creek’s edge watching minnows swirl each other in their watery dance. When I go home, my Zips are caked in mud. I smell like grass.
Around this time, at a church picnic the pastor asks me to get her nephew, who is also my age, a hot dog from a nearby table. I tell her “I’m not in the service.”
This is a story that my grandmother also relishes.
* * *
The radio is a bad influence, lures me further away, summons me to Salem Mall, through its heavy glass doors to feast on the hallucinogen of consumerism. Here garments beckon me to try on, be transformed, but Camelot Records spins a sticky web, offers a hundred shrink-wrapped escape plans begging to be bagged. I leave sweaty-palmed with something to take home, my allowance pick-pocketed by the record industry.
When the needle drops, I’m drawn outside myself. My scalp tingles. The sounds spin revolving doors I walk through in my mind.
Like the countless Negroes who used their skin as their disguise, passing as white to spin the yarn of a life, I master the art of a malleable identity. Music is one of the places I learn: 1) how to speak like a white girl from the Valley, 2) how to walk like an Egyptian, 3) how to be, when the occasion calls for it, off the wall. I try on identities like jeans.
By the time I’m thirteen I spend approximately 65% of my waking life putting on “whiteness,” because in some crude, unarticulated way, in my mind “whiteness” is equivalent to “freedom.”
It’s been said that the human brain hasn’t reached its full development until a person is in her mid-twenties. Whether this has anything to do with me eventually relinquishing that ridiculous arithmetic around that age is unknown to me.
* * *
Once during my adolescence my mother told me, “Children are like tiny anchors,” and asked me through a series of elaborate questions, did I like being free?
* * *
At the university I practice late-night-slip-outs like I should be memorizing lines from textbooks to pass tests. Side roads and alleys become familiar. I visit unfamiliar bars, hide out in the movie theater, hop in my car and skip town. For one week straight I forget that I’m enrolled and spend days in my pajamas watching television, reading books I checked out from the campus library, and refusing to answer the phone. Classes are an afterthought.
* * *
The last time I held a full-time job I had to be prescribed anti-depressants.
* * *
As a child I used to have a recurring dream where I was running across the freakishly deserted, green campus of my elementary school being chased by a man whose face I can never see. Once he almost caught me, but I woke up.
* * *
"Wanderlust Wonderland", Collage, Krista Franklin
*
Krista Franklin toils in Chicago, rubbing her hands fiendishly plotting her next great escape.
*
Notes:
“A Natural History of My Drapetomania” is part of the Natural Histories Project. Click here to learn more >>
You can find out more about Krista Franklin at kristafranklin.com and the Tres Colony website. And you can find more of her images online at CultureServe.netand delirious hem.
The collage “Wanderlust Wonderland” first appeared in the MiPoesias.com issue guest edited by Evie Shockley.
>via: http://owlsmag.wordpress.com/2010/02/03/a-natural-history-krista-franklin/
__________________________
|
|
Krista Franklin is a poet, visual artist and educator who hails from Dayton, OH, and currently works and resides in Chicago, IL. Her poems and visual art have appeared in/on several literary journals and websites, including Nexus Literary and Art Journal, Warpland, Obsidian III, nocturnes 2: (re)view of the literary arts, www.semantikon.com, www.milkmag.org, www.ambulant.org, and www.errataandcontradiction.org.
She has also been published in the anthologies The Bust Guide to the New Girl Order and Bum Rush The Page: a def poetry jam. She is a Cave Canem fellow, and was a featured poet in the 2000 New Voices New Worlds Series in St. Louis, MO.
|
|
UNTITLED (2005)
|
|
|
UNTITLED FAMILY PORTRAIT #1 (2004)
|
|
|
LEADBELLY #2 (2004)
|
|
|
BLACK & HISPANIC CAUSING PANIC (2003)
|
|
|
DADDY WE HAVE MUCH TO TELL YOU (2004)
|
|
|
TRANSATLANTIC TURNTABLISM (2005)
|
|
|
STRAUDER 3000 - AN AFROFUTURISTIC FAMILY PORTRAIT (2004)
|
|
|
>via: http://www.youngchicagoauthors.org/girlspeak/2005/kristafranklin.html
__________________________