LOOKMAN ADEKUNLE SALAMI

Papa Stokely is a formless jester who has occurred through the necessity of birth and burden; a fool who worries the most for the eternal conflict and laughs the loudest along with the magnificent elemental shit-stain-dogma - As casual as any supernova you will ever meet - One afterthought in the storm of atoms. But nothing is wasted - The universe is a solid object. He has already died and been reborn as a swarm of tropical flies; the Talis-man confirmed it when he threw pebbles at the sea, and the earth looked on and loved him indifferently, too huge for pity, for him or for the cornered baby Bison. Winning lottery tickets, slow hand claps, stomach cancer, gun laws based on insanity, racism, mass suicide, the cynics last straw is being pulled by a twitter feed while a limp dick waves over the last true version of the one-true-love, letting that go eventually and being found inside of nothing extra-ordinary - Matter is consistent in that it continues as it should. We are all of us the Talis-man’s children, and Stokely is truly his father’s son and his mother’s daughter. Ignore his accent - he comes from nowhere; Emiley is the only chance I’ll be taking now that I can hear what he has been saying for all these years. - LAS

 
L.A. Salami at his East London studio, by David Richardson

L.A. Salami at his East London studio, by David Richardson

L.A. Salami for Interview Magazine

L.A. Salami for Interview Magazine