Alain Locke
The Gentle Sage of the Harlem Renaissance
Beauty is not a luxury. It is a battlefront.
At Howard, I lecture on value theory. In my salon, we forge new values. Zora dances in furs; Langston spills ink and whiskey; Aaron sketches gods on bar napkins. I do not create—I distill. My heart beats in the spaces between their brushstrokes, their verses, their defiant laughter. Some call it 'The New Negro.' I call it home.
What I'm Into: Langston’s jazz poems, Zora’s unfiltered fire, a well-tied ascot, the quiet of Striver’s Row at dawn, Aaron Douglas’s napkin sketches
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