(4 of 5) edition xxv | vol. iii
our brother and nephew became ancestors
november 28, 2020
a car accident adding to the tally
that forces us to call this new year
2020 won
what can we say dear Brown Pages reader?
when we set out to create the LITANY editions
we had no clue they would serve
as a vessel for voids
we began this series mourning our aunt lisa
and now this one holds
our brother
michael anthony harris, 44
and our nephew
jalon michael harris, 26
our therapist said grief is like an ocean
a rising wall of salt water carving over head
a quiet wave lapping at the ankles
weight pulling just above the waist
grief is like an ocean she said
from a tab among tabs
creating The Brown Pages continues
to be a meditation on self-grace and patience
thank you for witnessing and (for some) returning
as always you are invited to grab a treat a blunt
some tea, a comfy blanket and settle in
slow down
dear reader
engage, play, click
savor
EBONY is a melancholy voyage
through identity, history, and revolution
landing on the pages of the
august 1969 edition of Ebony Magazine
we find black people confronting the police
building economic institutions
looking at what it means
to be black in america
along with paying tribute to our brother and nephew
we are here to celebrate LITANY’s fourth chapter EBONY
just in time for black history month
click your answer
Have ya'll watched LITANY| PT IV | Ebony?
pst. click your answer
“but you ain’t dump no more,” he said as his grin faded
his left eye returned to center
“naw you a grown woman”
silence settled as our eyes connected
seeing each other
him seeing me, “i love you sis"
me seeing him, “i love you michael”
“but you know i’m momma's favorite right?”
we broke out in a laughter that echoed those sunday mornings
siblings giddy with playful bickering and boundless love
atlanta country boy
who loved his momma, cutting (hair), sweets, rick ross & tupac, strip clubs, red bottoms, don julio, women
lobster and a fist full of money
michael anthony harris was a slow-talking
soft-hearted
son, dad, barber, nephew, friend, husband
he was my big brother
joy embodied
he didn’t give a damn
he had a deep slow laugh that would flare his nostrils wide
and a left eye that would veer to the side whenever he disappeared into thought
last time i saw him he reminded me of our childhood sunday mornings
ma would leave out dressed for sunday school in sheer white pantyhose.
smelling soft, she’d kiss our cheeks
instructing us to be good, not to fight and for michael to make us breakfast
she’d be back to get me dressed and together we would attend service
after eating bowls of cereal, we’d stand in front of my closet and he’d ask
“what you wanna wear to church dump?”
dump was the nickname he’d given me as a pale newborn that to him resembled a dumpling
fingers in mouth i’d point and he’d lay a frilly dress across my bed along with socks and black patent leather shoes
vaseline between palms
he’d smooth my hair into two lopsided pigtails
and help me into my dress of choice
i’d sit on the edge of the couch in our living room
buckling my shoes and rubbing lotion on my legs and arms
while he hummed into the bathroom mirror
buttoning a starched shirt and brushing his hair
ready, i'd slide my hand into his
we'd walk down the hill on harper st
hand in hand
laughing and singing
i remember ma’s surprise
seeing us at the bottom of the hill
just as sunday school ended
click the don julio button to navigate this edition via the table of contents.
My aunt Jeannie used to do women’s hair outta her kitchen. As a child i spent saturday afternoons at the foot of a swiveling yellow leather chair while “church women” told stories of traveling cousins and sinnin’ deacons. My aunt kept a wicker basket stacked full of the latest magazines for folks to thumb through as they got their hair did. Amongst the stacks were editions of Ebony and Jet Magazines. Amidst the scent of sizzling hair swirling, I spent hours flipping through the glossy pages in awe. Marveling at the colorful ads, the depictions of city life, the elegance of the fashion editorials and the hairstyles.
As the 2020 Rebuild CDF Dancer in Residence, I planned to explore notions of the erotic, femininity and spirituality. Inspired by my own personal history and aesthetics as well as the legacy of cartoonist Jackie Ormes, I was excited to delve into black beauty standards, pin up culture, and the continued evolution of femininity preserved in the Johnson Publishing Company archives at the Listening House.
Originally a local candy store, the Listening House underwent a renovation to accommodate the Dr. Wax records, portions of the Johnson Publishing Library, and remaining stock from the now-closed Prairie Avenue Books.
While the Covid-19 pandemic was surging and our country was exploding with uprisings against racial injustice and police violence, we spent sunny afternoons at the Listening House. Uneasy about creating work and feeling guilty for not going to protests, we combed through leather bound editions of Jet, Tan, Black World, and Ebony Magazine, pausing to improvise and reflect.
Outta those explorations came LITANY | Pt. IV | EBONY. Below you’ll find some scanned pages from Ebony. Hover over the images to reveal a magnifying glass and click to zoom. For mobile viewers pinch for a closer look.
We are also sharing a video of one of those afternoons where we moved to Kimberly Jones’ now viral speech.
thank ya'll so much for reading and sharing The Brown Pages.
we hope these pages can serve as a virtual refuge. a space to slow down and reflect.
we'll be back shortly to dive into LITANY'S final chapter. below you'll find a curated list of Black history picks for those who ain't quite ready to close this tab.
until we meet again, be gentle with yourself beloved. you are doing your best.
We were one of twenty recipients of the Foundation for Contemporary Art 2021 Grants to Artist award &
Voted #10 Most Influential Burlesque Industry Figure of 2020
Both of these awards are by anonymous vote or nomination. It is a true honor to be seen and recognized in this way.
Thank you, thank you, thank you!