Sika Foyer, born in Togo, West Africa, is an African-American artist and community development practitioner who uses poetry, abstract painting, and photography to engage in discourses on social issues, who and what we are.
She threads the ligaments of biology, social science, and the arts to provoke analogies between a healthy body and a healthy society.
As medium, she uses acrylic, oil, and mixed-media including organic material such as dry herbs, fruits skin, and vegetables and plays on how the human eye navigates colors, shades, and forms.
You can learn more about Foyer and her work at www.sikafoyerartsdesign.com
The Innocent State of Sleep He enters the canvas right about where The nude lady unrobes for her bath. If and only if, forgive their rudeness When no one responds to the intruding What a beautiful day! Quietly, he takes position behind the big tree. Immersed in observation. The brushstroke would not mind a bite. But instead,… Read more →
A Father’s Last Conversation Whether God exists has never been the real divider, but the interpretation of what God is. Duped into slavery, they believed working as serfs would help them pay back the White Establishment of the New World for helping them come to America, settle in, and own lands. They got buried deep into servitude and Stockholm Syndrome… Read more →
Communication In the dark, I question how I feed. There, I wake up blind, mute, and dead-like. There, I am paralyzed from head to toes. I run fiercely through unlimited options from Dawn to Dusk. I need to feed my mouth, my skin, my brain, Becomes my daily breath and mantra. The flies caress my soon to be pruned skin…. Read more →
Reflective of Becoming A broken mirror suffers the journey of becoming. The need to have a companion. Offer support in the journey of becoming The sacrifice of self Celebrate differences in unity. A Broken mirror in the journey if becoming. Impregnated reflection, a feather adrift Drunk in blue and green inks. Wandering the streets of Bourbon City. The Southeastern Wind… Read more →
Juxtaposition How could You Mango tree stand there, Tell me I am invading your privacy? Even the blind man knows this: When it comes to privacy, No tree mango or cassava has a say in it.
Rosebud Disturbance vibrates acidity. Lend your captivating taste buds, To turn chaos into roses. Lend your enduring humility, To avert drowning justice and equity. Compose Your lines, Your colors, Your forms, To mend the philosopher’s story.
A Pink Rose of Wisdom and Music Shots Rosy cheekbones meet his gaze with pride. In a silence film noir, The statute poses for the artist. Brush strokes upon brush strokes, The eye bruises his nakedness. Sharpens intensity into razor blade energy. A coherent metamorphosis of Lines, forms and colored vibrations. The wind captures the madness in loose trousers To… Read more →