"I’d rather go down in history as one lone Negro who dared to tell the government that it had done a dastardly thing than to save my skin by taking back what I said."--Ida B. Wells


It's Black History Month! While I think Black History should be everyday and not just relegated to February, I did want to commemorate it with a series that I recently started. My newest Inkscape portraits celebrate trailblazers and icons. They are my Black Superheroes.

I found images that were in the public domain (because getting sued for copyright infringement is not something that is on my bucket list) and merged them with previous Inkscape photographs that I had taken. It was somewhat of a painstaking process because I really had to dig to find the right Inkscape for each portrait. I wanted them to feel magical and ethereal and used color to reinforce the mood that each portrait inspired.

I deliberately decided to start my series with the amazing Ida B. Wells because, quite simply, she was a bad-ass and she simply doesn't get enough credit. In spite of being born into slavery, Ida seem to have a firm understanding of her rightful place in this world and refused to let her race or sex relegate her to sub-human status.

After being orphaned at the age of 16, she supported her younger siblings by becoming a teacher in a black elementary school. By the time she she got to college, she was keenly interested in the rights of black people and women. Incredibly, over 70 years prior to Rosa Parks, she refused to give up her seat to a white passenger on a train in Tennessee and was forcibly removed. This sister didn't stop there, though; she she also sued the railroad company and initially won a $500 through the local circuit court, although that ruling was later reversed by the Tennessee Supreme Court.

As an investigative journalist, Ida B. started an anti-lynching campaign and revealed the correlation between local economics and lynchings in articles that she published in her newspaper, Free Speech and Headlight. Because of the constant threats against her life, she was forced to arm herself with a gun and the offices of her newspaper were eventually destroyed. She would later go on to write Southern Horrors: Lynch Law in All Its Phases, a pamphlet that pointed out that whites lynched black men not because of supposed allegations of rape committed against white women, but rather out of fear of black economic progress.

I admire Ida's ability to reveal the hypocrisy of the suffragist and liberal movements that not only ignored continued violence against black people, but also failed to include blacks in suffragist and temperance movements in the South. To learn more about how Ida B. Wells butted heads with Frances' Williard and how she also went on to read her for filth, please read the Root's article on racism in the suffragist movement. Her confrontations with such movements precedes the still ongoing problem of feminist movements frequently ignoring the plights of black women.

Ida B. was a fearless lioness that did not let fear, racism, or sexism get in the way of her beliefs, even when her own life was under constant threat. I wanted to highlight her bravery by creating a glowing light emanating from her center, her soul. Her convictions were her guiding light. I cast her in deep purple because her fortitude and pride instills a feeling of royalty.

To say she was a pioneer who was ahead of her time is an understatement. Ida B. was everything.

Over the last few months I've been getting emails, Facebook posts and Instagram inquiries from other people  sharing pictures of work that resemble my Inkscapes. A lot of them have been from friends who have posted out of concern that perhaps my images are being ripped off by another artist or some mega-corporation. Other postings have been from complete strangers who may or may not think I have ripped off someone else or are not sure if I am the artist associated with a work done by someone else.  While I appreciate that there are people looking out for me and that my work is reaching a wider audience, I have to keep it real: it's really annoying and I wish people would stop doing it. Please allow me to elaborate.

The process that goes into creating my Inkscapes is something I stumbled upon after starting my art career as a painter. I used to paint mostly in watercolor and as any painter knows, you often have rinse your brush off by repeatedly dipping it in water. Whenever I used to do this, I would always marvel at the beauty of opaque clouds that spread in the pool of water.

Then I became a photographer and after focusing mostly on street photography for nearly two years, I wanted to "return to my roots" by finding a way to incorporate painting into my photography, and remembered the billowing clouds of color created by my paint-soaked brush and that's how my Inkscapes were born. As any who has been following for a while has known, my work has developed over the last two years and is a constantly evolving process.

Having said that, I have come to realize and accept that I am not the only artist in the world who does this type of "water art".  Long after I started doing these, I came across other photographers who did similar work but I could definitely see a distinct difference in their style and approach. This is not uncommon in the art world. Do you think Jackson Pollock was the only artist in his day that dribbled and splashed paint on canvas in a seemingly abstract pattern? Was Ansel Adams the only photographer who took majestic photographs of incredible landscapes?

As I also mentioned, I have friends worriedly telling me about this other Inkscapes-like photographs out of fear that I am being ripped off. I'm not; you can't trademark or copyright a technique. What's protected is each unique image that I and I alone create, which is why I go to lengths to create copyright protections for my work.  Don't forget, ya'll, I'm also a lawyer. I got this.

I can't worry about whether is someone is doing work that is similar to mine but as I matter of etiquette (and I know I will have to repeat myself again) I really wish people would stop posting images on my Facebook page or emailing me about who's work is similar to mine.  It adds nothing to the conversation and quite frankly, publicly takes away from my own unique contributions in a public forum. Artists like to be able to add their own distinct interpretations of a theme or idea. We don't like being told how much our work looks like someone else's. Please stop.

I think my friend and fellow artist, Lynite "Elle" Solomon, puts it best: