How Sahara Touched My Heart

Over the holidays, my Seattle-based son Simba, who has been practicing architecture for seven years, came home to Zimbabwe with his girlfriend, Janice. This was the Houston, Texas, native’s first trip to Afrika, and her Southern charm won over Simba’s mother and the rest of the family. My ex-wife and Simba’s mother, Marie Laure—a native of the French West Indies island of Guadeloupe—is famous for her discerning taste in everything! Simba and Janice were hosted by her future mother-in-law, who is a very generous queen of hospitality and a master chef specializing in exotic French dishes that are heavily influenced by her Creole background.

The couple came bearing gifts for family members, and I was blown away by a book from my Seattle-based friend, Pam McClusky, who is the curator of Afrikan art at the Seattle Art Museum (SAM). I have known her for eight years, and she is one of the most generous people I know. This time, she gifted me with an exquisite book titled Sahara: A Thousand Paths Into the Future, edited by Kateryna Botanova, Yarri Kamara, and Quinn Latimer. The cover intrigued me with the most beautiful typography I have seen! I smiled broadly as I thought to myself, “Trust Pam to always pick the most beautiful books!” I smiled as I felt a gush of pride—the typography was vindication for my love of and staunch interest and belief in Afrikan typography. “Only Pam,” I said softly to myself as I took in the beauty of the book, savoring every morsel to the last crumb as one would a piece of rare cheese. Going through the text was just the dessert to seal this thoughtful gift from a special and loving friend. I felt a sense of nirvana as I silently mouthed the words, “Thank you, dear Pam, and you have special holidays too!”

I have recently relocated to my plot (farm) in the country, about eighty kilometers from the maddening city, with its manic speed and cars careening down potholed roads—some of which resemble craters in a lunar scape! I just felt that “it was time”! It took me a few months to pack up my life into boxes and bags, filling my old and trusted Land Cruiser with empty boxes from all the supermarkets in my neighborhood. There was a lot to pack: all the books I have acquired in a lifetime, all my music—vinyl records (some dating back to the 70s), CDs, music books, and collectable box sets from my favorite artists like Miles Davis, Bob Marley, Fela, Nina Simone, et al. My eclectic collection of jazz, funk (Prince!), soul, rock (the album covers by masters like Roger Dean), all the music by bands from across Afrika. All the design annuals by Graphis and others from the 80s through the 90s. I kept thinking, museum... A lot of work by my students at ZIVA—all their thesis projects! I would fight the urge to fall into memories-induced paralysis, and—being a hoarder—I would surprise even myself with some of the shit I had collected over almost five decades of my life. I felt like my middle name should be Throw-Away-Nothing! Old clothes, thousands of photographs that chronicle my life, trinkets amassed from my globe-trotting forays, letters from friends all over the world—including some very personal love letters from the women I have had relationships and liaisons with—oh, my!

This move has been a very emotional process—a walk through my life and a rekindling of some very personal emotional baggage, most of which I had pushed to the recesses of my mind. I couldn’t help but think that my kids are going to have quite a time going through my shit after I bid this old world adieu! I found myself reminiscing about a lot of things, uncovering things that had been buried away in dusty enclaves. Kind of like stumbling on a radio station playing oldies but goodies during a long road trip! Pam’s gift brought back memories of grad school, where I discovered the existence of Afrikan writing systems that I quickly dubbed “Afrikan typography,” and of my now very hard-to-find book, Afrikan Alphabets, which I wish some young Afrikan designers would digitize into typefaces! Here I was, holding this dream in my hands, watching it materialize into reality! It conjured a mix of emotions as I fought back the tears. Tears of joy. Thank you, Pam. ❤️