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Friends make you cry, make you smile, make you fly, make you shine… these friends made me find my sketchpad, snap and paint away. Come with me on… Read More
Friends make you cry, make you smile, make you fly, make you shine… these friends made me find my sketchpad, snap and paint away. Come with me once again and experience a world you helped me create. Read Less
Some of them were old friends, some are current friends. By this I mean the artworks and models you are about to experience. Some are imaginary, some are in the flesh. So apart from being of physical company at the time of the creative, the images they left in my head and camera after they were gone became intense company and laid an indelible impression on me as you are about to see.
Amusement pack (Ball Point Pen)
She was like a pack of amusement; no she is a park of amusement that’s why other kids can go to her and play. Met her when I was serving in Lafia, Nassarawa state, Nigeria. Walking through a native dusty road in the slums of the middle belt region, her smiles and excitement hit me like a the bull’s eye dart but I knew it was my manual camera that I normally slung on ma shoulders on outings like this that engineered her attitude. Well, she had me but pity she didn’t get a copy.
All She Told Me (Ball Point Pen)
I met her online and she never stopped smiling… that was all she said; her incredibly ricocheting smile. The braid strands, her eyes once more brought out the scratchy freak in me.
EgbeleGbele (Water Color)
If I butchered the name of this dance the riverrine dwellers of Nigeria should forgive me. I met them in a calendar artwork. A dance by only young girls of puberty age down to as little as 3yrs of age. I wondered watching them life… I wondered… and before I knew it the wonder wandered and encountered paint.
Funlani Milkmaid (Water Color)
The ministry of culture and tourism, Lafia,Nassarawa State in Nigeria has some of my paintings, which I discharged when I was serving as a Corper there in 2004. Then in return they gave me her postcard. These beautiful northern girls sell nutritious raw cow milk, which I never really got to engage in (only tasted it once). Apparently the postcard got me engaged and this is how it scored off.
Game Over (Pencil)
In the last project, there was a story about some boy-wonder player I sketched while chilling outside my school studio(well you gata go back to that project to get the full gist). After making that sketch, it ticked off a great plague in me that never eased till I agreed to emphasize on the sketch.
Game Over (Acrylic)
Well… it turned out that making a pencil drawing of my boy wonder was like going from oven to the kiln. I actually started having fairy-mares of the lines turning to hues, tones and tints, hence so it turned out.
If Walls Could Play (Ball Point Pen)
She has a lot of siblings and I mean lots; anyone who knows the Muslim tradition of marriage will agree promptly. In truth, at the time she was making this connect with the walls some paces away from me, the rest of her convoy (siblings) were all scattered in front of me in reckless excited poses waiting for my camera tick off. A man with a camera is the best thing that can happen to northern kids. My friend here was actually taking up her own pose against the walls at that time like they were sharing a tango. I can bet she has modeling genes running in her. Don’t you think?
Little Things. (Pencil)
They are all in our faces daily like the nose, petty traders that is. Funny how it seems like if they waste their time spreading their wares daily (some perishable), as if the gains of their toils don’t hold water. It’s just like watching ants build a healthy food stashed colony, like seeing the chicken feed one by one off the floor. Tell me, what eventually happens? Your life without problems is a big problem. Think it.
Love Like Glue (Water Color)
Little kids are adorable not just by their looks but check out how they righteously believe and love, bonding to anything or anybody that cares to adhere. That was strictly what drove me to make this painting. Though I met her online, we bonded like lodestones.
Mama Emija (Oil on Canvas)
My story as a painter will not be complete without talking about this happy woman right here, Mama Ejima (Mother of Twins) so we called her. Throughout my years in school and even before I debuted as a student in IMT she ran a mama put joint (food canteen) beside the Arts Dept. so because of the proximity, we artists felt a sense of honor and practically owned her (other students came from their department to feast with us though).This woman and I shared a common surname, so to say less we bonded past the customer service level; she noticed my skills with the brush and started clamoring to experience some of it. Alas it happened thus.
Nne Okuko n’atu Onu… (Pencil)
I dedicated this drawing not to orange sellers (or orange peelers to be more distinct) but to all the everyday children learning from what happens around them. We keep on chorusing that our youths are the leaders of tomorrow but sadly we feed them sewage. No wonder some leaders older than Methuselah still stick around, ass adhesive to the throne. The title of the work is a native saying that goes thus “as the motherhen feeds her chicks watch on”. So you decide what you exhibit to your younger ones.
Nursing Mother (Water Color)
Am super slow to envy mothers because the joy of motherhood comes laced with a painstaking devotion as old as Eve.  Despite God’s decision after the Garden of Eden saga medians still embrace the thoughts of motherhood with gasping bear hugs despite its bouts and pangs. You may see it as an obligation but don’t you hear of career women today? What do you think they may be avoiding? A woman may decide to choose a man’s role (work) but not even transgender males can ever give birth.  Big ups to all the real women out there!
Revelations (Ball Point Pen with WaterColor)
I was walking down the sandy track roads ofLafia (the inside streets), my manual camera ever slung across my back when a little sweet voice stopped me in ma tracks. I turned and saw the beautiful artwork you are seeing now (but without the keys). She was actually saying “Mr.Photographer, please give me a shot” in her native hausa language, standing by her family house gate (that same mad attraction northern kids has for a man with a camera). Her consuming perfection was like a magic thunderbolt-like love spell and I clicked away. Finally I symbolized the artwork by giving her a key.Yes a key opens, a key reveals and in this case only a patient male can make a worthy use of this key if you know what I mean. By the way I had to pass by again to give my little angel her own copy of the pix.
Seen Me Yet? (Ball Point Pen)
That would have probably been what was on the boy’s mind when he was smiling back at me hanging from the tree branch. But in real he wasn’t climbing for me to see him but rather hastily trying to getdown so he could join his friend beside the tree to get a snapshot. As usual it was Lafia and I was walking some train tracks through the bush searching for sights. But what my little climber-hanger didn’t know was that he gave me the best pose ever than scrambling to stand by his friend.
Some Things Can’t Hide (Oil on Canvas)
There are a million and one reasons why a little one should cry. There are a million and one reasons why I would decide to put brush to paint to canvas. What haven’t been said, heard, seen or done? My people I leave you to figure this out.
Some Things Can’t Hide Part 2 (Oil onCanvas)
Y’ll could figure why this piece goes by the same title as the former only that it is part 2 this time. People could suffer in silence for ages but eventually the bubble bursts like the proverbial last straw and the camel’s hump. But on the contrary, who has ever tried concealing light with his palms, holding back pure joy once it hit you in the midst of family and friends? Try these and text or mail me how it went. These friends of mine couldn’t hide theirs even if there was suicide bombers in the area. The smiles were immaculate and my camera was on point.
The Search – What Next? (Water Color)
We could ask, is this a suitable title for this piece? What would a little girl hawker be searching for? What is her take in it? Where does she go from here? Yes by “here” I mean the trade. Did I just say trade? A little girl? Where she obviously goes from here is back home, at the end of the day to give account.
But what happens ultimately in the long run, a life span is degenerated to generate another span of life that may even degenerate more than the last one did. But I always thought that the NEXT should be an improvement of the last.
Yours Loving (Water Color)
In loving memory
Of all the sweet history
The pains and wails of the joyous entry
The harmony still a mystery
My joy, your comfy
My frowns, your duty
To erase duly…
A place I will always take refuge
No matter how much am refused
You never let me get confused
My every breath is to keep you improved.
-Excerpts from a poem I composed for ma sweet sweet momma and all the sweet sweet mommas out there, I keep flying your banner.
Thank you again for making the time. I hope I was engaging enough and i also hope the works are persuasive enough to make you dip your hands. Please do stay tuned cos we are just warming up and I will be expecting your requests of the choice of artworks you may wish to have. Cheers People!