‘Black Heart Man‘ by Bunny Wailer was a song that played quite alot when I lived with my mom. I never really listened to the words but hummed along as it filled the living room and she danced away to it. It seems quite ironic to dance to it now that I am older and … More Black Heart Woman
The weather has been dreadful. The sun has been shy lately, hiding like a child, eagerly waiting to be found but still wants to win their game of hide and seek. And while listening to Ruby Gyang’d new song, Oya Dance, I must say that I miss warmth. Growing up in a tropical country, Nigeria, … More Sand in the Cracks of My Heart
I love abstract paintings. The way colors seem to clash but yet work together to draw your eyes to certain areas and the varying emotions that come up for everyone that sees them. I also believe that the act of painting abstract for most artists is a liberating, explosive feeling. For me though, it was … More Saved By The Brush
After alot of travelling for the holidays, from London, Ontario to Boston, Massachusetts then Minneapolis, Minnesota and back to Canada, I can definitely say that I was physically exhausted. But my heart was full. This was the first time I got to have a lot of family members around me and I cherished every moment … More Home Is Where The Heart Is…
When I started making hearts for 2018, my aim was to make it like a journal. Everyday, I draw out what the day felt like to me and if I can, create it. And it was a grand plan and I started off strong, drawing out my feelings, feeling like the most accomplished artist that … More ‘The Heart of Man Is Very Much Like The Sea…’
It feels like kismet, you know. The very first post about my year long project is on Valentine’s day. For a long time, it seemed like I had a love hate relationship with val’s day. I only really started enjoying val’s day when I stopped hoping and wishing for this fairytale love story to happen … More Happy Valentine
I fell off blogging sometime back. Not because I lacked content…though that happens once in a while, it was because I wasn’t sure if my voice was being heard. But I realised that it wasn’t about being heard, it was about if that was my voice was true to me. We know how complicated living … More The Journey Begins
Amsa Yaro Studio 