"Bell Theory" by Troy's Work Table.
Sidewalk chalk wash, sidewalk chalk, chalk pastels, and charcoal pencil on 12" x 12" concrete board.
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"(I touched the globe moving in my throat, a hemisphere sinking.)" and "Lie on a field lined with golden bells, loved." —from "Bell Theory" by Emily Jungmin Yoon
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This poem rings and sings. There is rhythm and there is rhyme. There is exploration of language. And it is beautiful.
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There is darkness. There is misunderstanding. There is insensitivity. There is racism. And it is ugly.
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There is a reaching back. There is a being now.
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There is some sort of balance that is found. There is a power that is reclaimed.
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Like "Not the Forsythia" there is a field of forsythia. Once again we are amidst its blazing yellows, and we are amidst "vibrating bells in their mouths."
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