Woodlands and Flatlands

After immigrating to America from a third world country, my narrative of the free world changed drastically. Whereas freedom of expression was a privilege I sought in this major move, it was the same privilege that I lost immediately when I settled in a somewhat rural town in central Illinois. I arrived when the campaign for a Post-Obama administration escalated into racial rhetoric, and as a black artist, a year would pass in isolation as I lived my life in fear. I had not known of what formerly were known as the 'Sunset Towns' and what they meant for black people in America. For almost a year, in this small town, I was the only black person visible in town. Young white youth rallied around me with confederate flags. I hardly could leave the confines of our small house, and whiled away my days working on a book project. After moving to the city, and in about a year and half later, I have returned to capture the emotions of that time. The eerie landscape, and the quiet violence of human separation are themes that I explain my journey through a year of physical and mental isolation in a foreign land.