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I got a scholarship. I received the Jesse H. Jones scholarship that got me through TSU. I had one teacher, Dr. Mary Jordan Atkinson—she was a history teacher and philanthropist—who helped me financially. Dr. Atkinson was the person who pushed me to submit some of my [written] work to the program that was at TSU so far as art, and I ended up—never having competed before—with two pieces of my work accepted as second place. And I had one professor, Dr. Smith, who recognized my poetic potentials enough to [let me]write my oral exam as a poem.
I’m an artist first. And them I’m a writer, and I guess I’m a poet—I can consolidate writer with poet. No one wanted to recognize me as a poet because I was so good as an artist. At that time they could put a label on you, and unless you were strong enough you would submit to that. It ended up that a lot of my time at TSU was what should have been: just treading the water, you know, seeing what all was out there. And thanks to John Biggers, he did not push me to be like John Biggers with his crosshatch. I was in my freshman drawing class and he took me out of my freshman drawing class and put me on a mural—and I thank him for doing that. I didn’t have to do that freshman drawing class because, he said, “You’re already doing the things that I’m teaching in that class. So you get a ladder and get up there.” And he was showing me how artists through the ages have remained artists and still spoke their piece and influenced a whole bunch of people. He was teaching me the philosophy of art. I didn’t know it, but he was teaching me that, rather than simply drawing pictures. He let me have that kind of freedom to express myself and he wanted me to see what it’s like to be up on that ladder, which is an expression, you know.
I can say what my thoughts are about the future…and I think that sticking to my guns between the writing and the art [is a part of it] and mostly painting and drawing would be the graphic part of it. I feel like I’m going to be successful at [a]late age because I have done something about it with the help of someone who saw some of my work in a book that was done back in the 50s. I’m thinking that I will be successful…I’ll become known, and am becoming known. Then I won’t be surprised if it does happen. I’ll have this experience that got me ready for now—really got me chock-full of things that I want to draw and paint.
Willie Moore was interviewed on June 6 and June 14, 2006. You can listen to the interview here .
Folks go huntin’
’neath th’ harvest moon
T’ get meats f’r their “vittles”
-like possum ’nd coon,
They eat turtle soup, armadillo, dirty rice
shrimp-gumbo ’nd crawdad pies
It’s goulash, frog legs, alligator tail,
Wild goose, turkey, duck ’nd quail!
It’s the taste o’ budan (stuffed in chittlin’)
“Kansas City wrinkles,” ’nd dry-salt middlin’
(A streak o’ fat ’nd a streak o’ lean),
Fried, or boiled in a pot o’ greens,
It’s fresh pig feet, ’nd hog head cheese,
Smoked-jowl-boiled in black-eyed peas,
It’s rabbit stew f’r supper
If th’ fish won’t bite
-’nd “A chicken on Sunday
is a preacher’s delight!”
Now when supper’s over,
They move with haste,
‘cause it’s story tellin’ time...
’Roun’ the ol’ fireplace!
See a rockin’ chair a-stoppin’
(Y’u c’n hear a fallin’ pin)
There sits a little gray man
With beards on h’s chin:
-He’s th’ kind o’ Uncl’ Remus
-He’s th’ master o’ his art
-He’s creator o’ oration
-’nd th’ actor o’ each part!
He goes “Once upon a time…”As th’ tales begin
-It’s t’ giggle n’d t’ sigh
As ya listen t’ h’m “spin,”Y’ forget it’s ‘maginary
When h’s hands start floatin’
’nd conductin’ th’ response
O’ those a listenin’ an’ emotin’
-It’s silhouettes stilled
Afront th’ hearth,-Barefoot chillunSet f’r fear or mirth,
-Inchin’ closer t’ each other
While sittin’ on th’ floor
-gazin’ at th’ old man,
Glancin’ at th’ door.
Comes Aesop’s Fables –
Like th’ Turtle ’nd th’ Hare
Th’ Fox ’nd th’ Cock –
Now get ready for a scare!
It’s a bat zoomin’ down
Or th’ growlin’ grizzly bear -Or an angry “haint”
On th’ loose out there!
“Sshhh—something ‘s movin’ in th’ brush!
Fireflies hide, crickets hush!”
It’s t’ jump when th’ north wind
Whistles through th’ crack
‘caus y’y’r ‘fraid that th’ Booger-Man
‘s tippin’ ‘hind y’r back!
-It’s enough t’ make y’r hair
Stand straight up on ya head –
It’s t’ duck b’neath th’ cover
When ya hop into th’ bed!
It’s morals mixed with pleasant fright,
’nd ghosts still walk on a rainy night!
It’s vast retrospection
(T’ be used f’r prediction)
It’s a whole lot o’ facts –
Mixed in with th’ fiction
It’s t’ read th’ message between th’ lines
Before we make decisions
Discerning truths that at first glance
Escaped our normal vision
It’s a record o’ th’ past
(held fast in rhyme)
By poets, scribes, and sages
From way back when—t’ present time!
Th’ wisdom of the ages!
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