Black
Dolls, Black Art, Black Healthy Stuff & More…
Marketplace
and Outreach at Omenala Griot Afrocentric Museum
A day is not formed, until it is lived. Sometimes you’ve got to separate yourself
from your notion of a day, unformed as it is, in favor of what is being offered
to you, and let the day form itself while you, having bought the ticket,
faithfully take the ride. This kind of
happened to me on the beautiful Saturday of September 8. The Georgia Nutts Guild, consisting of our
founder, DAP Tales, myself (alFalaq), Mia Maine and Yvonne Walker were booked
to do some vending and outreach at the Black Dolls, Black Art, Black Healthy
Stuff & More Marketplace being held at Omenala Griot Afrocentric Museum in
west Atlanta. Knowing that I would need
to be ready to work all Saturday night, there was a part of me devoted to the
idea of chilling at home in my jammies and having a nap; at least that could
have been hatched as the plan, or like I mentioned before, my notion of the
day. I considered making a case out of
it. But it was early and the day was not
yet formed, you see; just my notion of it.
And that’s how easy it would have been to miss out on, what turned out
to be, one of the nicest Saturday afternoons of the whole summer.
We got to the place amid a bustle of vendors setting about
getting their tables and wares in order, and proceeded to do the same. Old School soul music was bobbing along
through the air around us: Maze andFrankie Beverly, Earth, Wind & Fire, Prince. Bright sounds like traces of the late morning
sun following us into the warmly welcoming interior of the museum space.
Flags of African nations quilted together
were hung in one area of the ceiling like a parlor canopy.
Various ritual masks and carvings stared out
tacitly from their homes adorning wall spaces and corners, observing the action
noncommittally.
A separate room lined
with shelves of books pertinent to African and African American history and the
diaspora housed a chair basking in the glow of sun-soaked windows, lacking only
a reader to fulfill its promise of shared knowledge.
Backed by a brightly painted, thematic mural,
an empty storyteller’s stage issued its silent address to a waiting array of
folding chairs. People chattered and
muttered busily around their tables.
Lisa Stansfield was bemoaning her love, which she still hadn’t found,
despite having been all around the world.
We were just finishing our table setup but already I was
feeling a homey vibe about this place.
Something about it just felt like it was a good time to be there; I
decided to wander about and mingle a little in what I would soon come to regard
as a garden of talents and tastes, with some true gems tucked away among its
varied offerings.
At the GNG table, DAP’s clear bell of a voice and glimmering
smile were introducing people to the concept of our writer’s guild. At least, that’s when people were around…
more on that in a minute.
Displaying
each of their own lines of uniquely crafted, hand-made jewelry, Yvonne Walker’sArtistic Kitten and Mia Maine’s Elegantly Twisted labels adorned that mesa as
well. Other vendors, like PaparazziAccessories and Tiana’s Jewels, had partnered with wholesalers as a point of
sale retailing operation of their own.
Each table had a mother and daughter tag team, not just businesses for
the moms but setting the stage for the young ladies, as well.
Making my circuit, there were a few gravitational hot spots
for me; one of the first was House of Enchantment.
This vending station was swaddled in an
invisible cloud of aromatic diffusion.
The brisk, refreshing scent was emanating from one of the many hand-made
candles on display. Natural crystals,
chakra balancing kits and smudging sage were also available.
I couldn’t help being drawn in also, due to their beautiful
designs and craftsmanship, to the hand-sewn dolls of Paddlefoot Dolls andCrafts.
The dolls’ tiny clothes were all
so well made, but here’s the thing: the
dolls themselves, though all representative of African American lineage,
displayed a wide diversity of complexions and hair styles. In some ways, Paddlefoot’s doll collection is
a quiet comment on the diaspora as can be seen today in the community, which is
one of the central themes of the Omenala Griot museum itself and one of its
essential educational ideals. I thought
for a second how easily the issues of the present day can gloss over our days
past, if the conversation is not kept alive, which I think is part of the whole
reason for this beautiful museum.
There was so much more to see, but it would be remiss of me
to mentally walk us out of the vending space without calling out one of the
true gems of the day: the young
gentleman at the table next to us, Anthony Badila.
He was selling small charms he had made by
hand, sculpting them in clay, then molding them in a plastic or ceramic. Food items, like donuts or slices of cake,
transformed into friendly characters by the addition of happy little
faces. Prototype dolls he had designed
and sculpted and was seeking to bring to market ready production, were on
display. All African American, but all
different, the fine quality of them was obvious and marked this young man as a
real talent in development.
I spoke with Gina-Rey, from New York on my way outside;
there was no way around it, actually; she had populated the entire patio with
her lovely crocheted apparel items.
She
was a bright, fun personality, who had come along way. A lot of the vendors had, in fact. There were folks from NY, Florida, even from
waaaaay over in California, here to vend.
This is what they do.
Unfortunately, the ratio of vendors to customers was far out
of proportion. I don’t know the full
extent of the promotion for this event, but it seemed such a shame to have so
few customers for these business operators and so few visitors to this
fantastic cultural center.
I haven’t
even taken you outside with me yet, into the wonderful vegetable garden
cultivated alongside the museum.
Or to
the outdoor storytelling space, with its carved tree stumps surrounding the old
oak trunk, where I planted myself on a bench in the early afternoon sun and
smelled the vines all around me and heard the whisper of the breeze-blown
leaves above.
I considered my feelings
about this place, with which I had kind of fallen in love, as I made my way
back through the tomatoes, peppers, melons and flowers planted in rows and down
into the grassy parking area.
I stopped
to shoot a couple of photos of the giant Kwanzaa kinara there, seven street
lamps dressed as candles, painted in the traditional red, black and green.
I imagined them lighting in the evenings, one
by one, in the days after Christmas. I
felt a sort of gratitude as I left, that good fortune had allowed us to stumble
onto this gem, hidden away in a west Atlanta neighborhood. And an accompanying sense of surprise when I
discovered it wasn’t the only one. I saw
from banners around the area that this community is called AshviewHeights.
It seems they’ve got a lot
going on, progressively speaking. Not
only is it the home of the Omenala Griot Museum, just up the street is the
Truly Living Well Collegetown Farm Center for Natural Urban Agriculture.
I ran into this place just as a fluke while
leaving the neighborhood. It’s a huge
space, growing just about everything; vegetables, fruit trees and decorative
flora.
There is a play area for children
inside. They conduct community outreach
and educational programs on urban farming and self-subsistence.
A broad space, full of sun and nature and
fresh growing natural foods right there, in the middle of the city. And I had no idea.
See? Sometimes you
just gotta go with it. You never know
which day is just ready and waiting to blossom into something special. You might have plans, or notions but when
life extends the invitation, leave your jammies behind and say “Yes”.
No comments:
Post a Comment