Again, Fanon’s words come to mind: “The town belonging to the colonized people . . . the native town, the Negro village, the medina, the reservation, is a place of ill fame, peopled by men of evil repute. They are born there, it matters little where or how; they die there, it matters not where, nor how.”
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Craft is honed or realized through repetition: we are what we do, among and again, in writing and in life. Craft is relevant insofar as it advances the political and philosophical traditions we are rooted in, ideally of the people against those who seek to extract, exploit, and dominate.
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Etel, if I had known you in life instead of art I know we would have found places to disagree, but of one thing I am sure—we mourn together. We ask each other to live.
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sister is the river cold?
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