Boxes in the trunk of the Toyota Corolla Azure her mother sold when they got to the city. Their neighbor played “Purple Rain” every morning. Blue stripes on the city bus. Blue Man Group in Union Square. Public school, plastic chairs. First test. “Sorry kid,” when Natasha’s teacher handed her a blue pen.
I found I was still able to evoke emotions and capture beauty. It was safe. It was comfortable, and I never had to look away. Rather than feeling lost, I felt that I wanted more and could do more. I began to see the clouds as art, as the way they might look or could look. I saw them as paintings, as layers, and eventually, some as abstracts.
Klo is a Brooklyn based street artist who dismembers societal stereotypes surrounding color, gender, and body.
Even a lightbulb signifies positive change. Now, I try to remember the negative. What’s the opposite of a lightbulb going off above my head? Dim? Dim-witted? It means the less light there is—the less whiteness that exists—the worse we’re deemed to be.
