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Black Woman Writer Quotes

Browse 10 quotes about Black Woman Writer.

Black Woman Writer Quotes

“native nostalgia, a prelude to the now when will we ever feel safe in the Mother City's nest? Neng? Nini? i long for a time when harmony between humans and nature was not a utopian dream scattered by the patter of raindrops that threaten rooftops. the rain that is no longer euphony or lullaby to hush you to slumber. a storm is fast approaching, stay on higher ground, dig up trenches and unclog the drains wailing voices choking within the Mother City echo code red, declare this a national emergency belligerent tempest (s) warn of a time to come, a treaty between the mortals and the natural environment is needed! displaced, confused, we've become strangers to the Mother City are you going to listen to the wind, or are you going to wait for floating lilies to deliver seeds of condolences?”

“I write for... I wish I could write purely for fun – I wish I could wake up in the morning and write about the bees and the trees and the leaves. But there is a burden that sits on my shoulder and this is why I write. I write for… All the Black women who didn’t make it All the Black women with tapes on their mouths All the Black women whose tongues were cut by violation All the Black women who lost their surnames not by choice I mould my words for… All the Black girls who think the world is innocent All the Black girls who still dream All the Black girls whose eyes are still clear – not tainted by nights of weeping I write for my grandmother I write for my mother I write for me I write for us Sometimes I don’t know why I write But what I know is this I must write”

“In an economy that values the new, the instant next product, there’s so much pressure to keep producing. to churn things out, to prove your worth in output. But there’s deep value in revisiting what you’ve previously created. Sometimes the work you need is already written by you. like time travel of sorts, the now you travelled back in time to whisper these words because you would need them.”

“I imagine some artists like myself love the spotlight. It is a beautiful thing to have your art recognised. for it to be admired like a flower in the field. But I wonder, does a flower know it’s a marvel? Does it feel pleasure to be adored? Does it realise when it’s been cut? that it’s been commodified, that an entire value chain exists around it, that hands will decide its worth or would it prefer to be left alone, admired from a distance, its petals untouched, for the bees, for the air. I wonder…”

“I think of my days as an aviation aficionado, obsessed with the Gripen ( not yet knowing what war machines cost us), watching fighter jets break the sound barrier. The jet would pass before the boom, delaying time so the object arrived before its sound. That’s how some of us move through this world, seen long before we’re heard. The world says "too late," but we’re exactly on time, aligned. Things happen when the conditions align. And this is what I am returning to, a rhythm that keeps me kin to the land. Land not as metaphor, but the taproot of my lineage. To honour this means inviting imvelo into my creative practice. It means slowing down. It means sitting with the stress of being an artist who reveres the earth while participating in the machine that devours it.”